


Take A Chance on Me

by Sheepie



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Background Harry/Percival, Computer nerd!Merlin, Domesticate Cuteness, Eggsy tries, Firefighter AU, Fluff and Smut, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Harry likes to set his friends up, M/M, Merlin tries, Misunderstandings, Smut, Some angst, These boys can't communicate, They all try, This is all fluff with a side of porn, blind date au, bottom!Merlin, enough fluff to make a llama, fire fighter!Eggsy, top!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepie/pseuds/Sheepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wasn't a people person. He didn't like talking to them. He didn't like being near people. And he certainly wasn't good at dating. He was old and set in his ways. A glass of wine, some NPR, and checking up on his cats in Neko Atsume was about the extent of his Friday night.</p>
<p>Harry, the meddling berk and his dear friend of twenty-plus-years, got it in his head, though, that Merlin needed to start dating again. But instead of setting him up on a normal blind date, Harry wins an evening with a young hunky fire fighter named Eggsy Unwin.</p>
<p>Now Merlin's quiet and simple life is turned upside down and he needs to decide if this crazy thing called love is really worth the chance--and it might be if Eggsy keeps smiling at him like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blind Dates for Sale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/gifts).



> So here is my half of the exchange I did with Anarchycox! She requested a firefighter au where Merlin wins a date with sexy fireman Eggsy. Of course this got out of control (I don't think either of us are good at sticking to word counts) and snowballed into a multi-chapter fic.
> 
> I'm going to be posting every few days as I edit chapters. Most of this is written out, but I'll be expanding on certain chapters. As of right now the total amount will be 7 chapters ranging between 2-4k.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you like it Anarchy!

Harry hated charity events. Usually he would just send a cheque in lieu of an RSVP, but Percival insisted they attend. Harry was all for raising awareness and helping out foundations in need, but he’d rather do it from the comfort of his own home.

“Roxy will be there, and we need to show our support,” Percival had said over their morning cuppa. Harry had tried to come up with an excuse, but Percival deftly shot each one down with the precision of a highly trained sharpshooter. “It’s her first year at the fire department and she wants to make a good impression. Please, Harry. For me.”

He could never deny Percival.

“Don’t look so upset,” Percival said as he returned with their champagne. “It isn’t all that bad.”

“ _You_ didn’t have to listen to Valentine,” Harry pointed out. He accepted his glass with a frown. “How long does it take to get a drink? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you purposely kept away.”

Percival kissed Harry’s cheek to placate him. “I did no such thing. That would be very ungentlemanly of me, now wouldn’t it?”

Harry huffed. “It certainly would, and you certainly did. I’ll remember that.”

Percival hummed in response and turned to face the room. A band played on stage, just below a giant banner that advertised the local fire department the event was supporting. It was a charity ball hosted by some woman’s organization that Harry didn’t bother learning the name of, and wouldn’t think about again after this night. He was sure the amount of money that went into planning the event could have as easily been turned over to the fire department and saved all of them the trouble of coming.

“Would you like to dance?” Percival asked, setting his half-empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

Maybe the night wasn’t so horrible. Harry placed his champagne glass down and held his hand out, which Percival accepted. “I’d be honored.”

They walked past the white linen draped tables decorated with clipboards for the silent auction and moved towards the dance floor in the center of the room. Couples were already dancing across the polished hardwood. Harry drew Percival close, settling his hand on the sharp line of his waist, and murmured into his ear, “You look lovely tonight.”

“I thought you were mad at me?” Percival said, moving closer than was necessarily proper for a waltz.

“Not mad,” Harry said, allowing the music to settle over him and guide his feet. “I’d just rather spend my free evening at home with you than here listening to Chester King go on about how the labor party is destroying our country. I told him there’s a reason why the aristocratic grew weak chins, and it wasn’t just from centuries of inbreeding.”

 “You didn’t,” Percival said in false-admonishment, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I did,” Harry insisted, spinning Percival around. “He didn’t know how to respond, so he just moved on to telling me about his insolent nephew who joined the station. I think his name was Charlie.”

Percival laughed and Harry thought about how he’d attend thousands of dreadful charity balls if it meant he could always listen to the musical sound. Harry kissed Percival’s forehead. “I’m having a lovely time, even if the company—present not included—is about as interesting as a wet napkin.”

“Well I’m grateful you came. Roxy needed our support.” Percival leaned forward, lips ghosting over Harry’s ear. “Remind me to show you just how grateful I am when we get home.”

            The music cut off before Harry could comment and woman dressed in a slinky shimmering gown tapped at the microphone. Harry let go of Percival and turned to face the stage.

            “Hello ladies and gentleman, I’m Beverly Timsworth, President of Chelsea’s Women’s’ Society. Thank you all for coming tonight and showing your support for the Chelsea Station Fire Brigade. We’re lucky to have such honorable men and women serving to protect us each and every day.” Beverly paused to clap her hands. “Now, our silent auction will be closing soon. So if you haven’t made any bids, make sure you take your chance now. There are some excellent prizes we’re giving away, including five night stay at the exclusive Delphina Resort in the Bahamas.”

            Harry leaned close to Percival. “Please tell me you bid on that.”

            Percival shot him a sly smile.

            “Now, we have one last surprise for you,” Beverly announced. Harry exchanged a look with Percival, one eyebrow cocked. Percival shrugged and looked back at the stage. “The fire department will be auctioning off a date with three of their newest members.”

            Another round of applause. Harry shared a quizzical look with Percival, but neither commented as they clapped dutifully.

            “We’ll begin with newest member, Charlie Hesketh,” Beverly announced.

            Charlie walked out from behind the stage, dressed in a bespoke tuxedo. He was handsome in that stereotypical way that seemed ubiquitous with today’s youth but Harry found boring; nothing exceptionally interesting about him, but a still pleasing face. _This must be King’s revered nephew._ It sounded fairer to pay one of the guests to spend the night with him.

            “We’ll start the bidding at a hundred,” Beverly said. The hands went up.

            “You know,” Percival said beside him.

            “Please tell me you don’t want to bid on him,” Harry said. “I’ll be very offended.”

            Percival rolled his eyes. “Not for me, you idiot.”

            “Oh?”

            “Well, you were just telling me how you wanted to set Merlin up,” Percival said.

            Harry mauled over the insinuation. It was true, he’d been trying to get Merlin to go out for some time. They’d been friends for years, started a business together, and spent most of their days around one another. Only, at the end of the day, Harry went home to Percival, whereas Merlin went home to a computer. He didn’t even have the decency to get a proper cat to waste his days on. Merlin contented himself with some app he called _Neko Atsume_.

            “All the enjoyment of cat ownership, without the mess,” Merlin had explained when Harry asked him what the devil the app was.

            “Not him,” Harry said. “He looks like a little shit.”

            The bidding reached eight hundred for Charlie before Beverly declared a victor. The bounty went to a desperate looking middle-aged woman dripping with diamonds. Charlie smiled bravely, but Harry swore he saw a touch of apprehension in his eyes.

            Charlie vanished behind the curtain, and Beverly announced, “Our second fire fighter is for the men out there. She’s the first female fighter to join the Chelsea Station, Ms. Roxanne Morton.”

            “Did you know she was doing this?” Harry asked as he clapped obediently.

            “No, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Do you think she’ll be terribly mad if I bid?”

            Roxy stopped in the middle of the stage and smiled resplendently at the crowd. She’d chosen a deep blue dress, which poured over her well-toned form, spilling around her feet in a waterfall of starlight. The thin straps of the dress revealed the hard definition of her arms, which she spread out as she turned in a circle.

            Hands shot up, one of which was Harry’s.

            “Harry,” Percival scolded without real infliction.

            “You’ll have to beat me.” Harry kept raising his hand in bid, and Percival met each price increase.

            The hands started dropping off until it was left to the two of them. Percival glared Harry down, lifting his hand and declaring, “Eleven hundred.”

            Roxy glared at the both of them, cheeks red. She set her hands on her hips, and Harry decided at that moment to graciously bow out.

“Well, that was exciting! We have a winner at eleven hundred. Thank you Mr.—” Beverly turned to Percival.

“Hart,” Percival declared with a victorious grin. His smile faltered when he turned to Roxy, whose glare could have peeled the paint from the walls. She arched one pointed brow, and Percival coughed in his hand, turning away discretely.

“I think she’s mad,” Harry whispered at Percival.

“Oh do shut up, you bastard,” Percival hissed.

Roxy walked off the stage, and Percival vanished into the crowd, no doubt to find his niece and try to assuage her anger.

“Our last participant is Chelsea Station’s youngest member, Mr. Gary Unwin,” Beverly announced, hands raised as she clapped.

Harry had hoped someone at a more respectable age would have participated in the event. He wasn’t sure how Merlin would feel going on a date with someone that looked like they just graduated secondary school. Gary Unwin sauntered out onto the stage, throwing the crowd a dimpled grin and flirtatious wink. The tuxedo he wore looked as if it were ready to rip at the seams, the shoulders stretched taught.

He could hear Merlin in his ear now. _Don’t ye dare set me up with some bairn that’s barely broken in his milk teeth. I don’t need anybody, ye meddlesome berk._

Harry raised his hand at five hundred. Merlin most certainly needed a date, even with someone twenty-years his younger. Perhaps someone young would do Merlin good—maybe do what Harry couldn’t and actually coax the beast out of his cave.

Beverly fumbled at Harry’s hand, but kept the bid rolling. She focused heavily on the women bidding, but Harry kept raising his hand. Gary watched him, viridian eyes sparkling curiously as Harry hiked the bid by the hundreds.

Percival returned to see his side when the bid reached a thousand. “Oh he’s lovely. Merlin?” Harry nodded and raised his hand, countering the bid and raising it to twelve hundred. “Merlin will owe you a very big thank you.”

“He can consider this his Christmas _and_ birthday present,” Harry said. “For the next two years.”

Percival chuckled. The woman Harry was competing against raised her hand again, and Harry promptly countered. “Fifteen hundred.”

Gary whistled low. “Fuck me, bruv.”

“Gary,” Beverly gasped.

“Oh sod off. The toff bastard wants a date that bad, then let him win.”

Gary winked at Harry before slipping behind the curtain. Beverly laughed nervously, her grip on the microphone tightening. “Thank you all who bid. We’ll be announcing the winners of the silent auction in ten minutes. If the winners of the ‘win a date’ could see me.”

Well, Harry certainly hadn’t expected _that_.

“Oh, I like him,” Percival said, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice, even without looking at him. Harry shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the stage. He may have made a miscalculation—Gary may be too much for Merlin to handle.

“I don’t know,” Harry said.

“Nonsense.” Percival patted Harry’s arm. “He’ll be perfect. Besides, it’s one date, right?”

“Was Roxy very mad?” Harry asked. He started to make his way through the crowd, walking towards Beverly, who stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the stage.

“She pretended to be, but I think she’s a bit grateful she doesn’t have to go on an awkward blind date,” Percival said. “Of course now she can’t blow us off for Sunday dinner.”

Harry hummed and fished out his cheque book from his inner pocket. The woman who won the bid on Charlie gleefully handed over her payment. Beverly turned to Harry and Percival, her Botox bloated cheeks straining beneath her smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Hart and Mister…”

“Hart,” Harry added.

Beverly’s eyebrows shot up. She looked between them, her smile wilting into a pinched frown. “Mr. Hart,” She amended. “We’ve never had such… _generous_ donors.”

“It’s a cause we care deeply for,” Harry said. He clicked his pen and scrawled out the cheque. “One would think an organization would invest the money used to plan this gala towards the actual cause, but thankfully you chose to host this _lovely_ evening. I may be twelve hundred short, but I won a date with a delightful young man. Very progressive.”

Beverly’s frown grew deeper and deeper with each passing second. Percival elbowed Harry in the side and handed over his cheque. “Thank you again,” Percival said, before grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging him away.

“What did I do?” Harry asked, blinking innocently.

“Don’t give me that look,” Percival said.

“Oi, y’ the guy that won a date wif me?” Harry turned to face Gary, who made his way through the crowd, brandishing a glass of champagne in one hand and cheeky grin on his lips.

“I am. And you must be Gary.”

“Call me Eggsy,” Eggsy said. He raised his glass. “Cheers, mate. Can’t thank y’ enough for your donation. Y’re a real govnor for helping us out. Swear down, didn’t expect many people to bid on me.”

“Not horribly disappointed a man won?” Harry asked.

Eggsy shrugged and took a sip of champagne. “Don’t matter to me. So when do y’ want to do this?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d be horribly upset if I made a small change.”

Eggsy narrowed his eyes, glancing briefly to Percival. “Look, y’ both are fit as fuck,”—Harry coughed and Percival choked back a laugh—“but I don’t do threesomes. Well there was that one time, but that—”

“I wasn’t suggesting a threesome,” Harry cut him off. “My husband isn’t one for sharing.”

“Husband?” Eggsy cocked a brow. “Y’ two are? Oh, well. All right then.” He raised his glass again. “Cheers to y’.”

“Thank you,” Percival said, voice twinkling with laughter. Harry snaked an arm around Harry’s waist and tugged him close. “I’m Percival, by the way. And this is Harry.”

“Pleasure,” Eggsy said and held out his free hand. “Wait, Percival? As in Uncle Percy?”

“Ah, so I see Roxy has mentioned me,” Percival said with a grimace. “That would be me.”

“Well fuck, it’s a real pleasure,” Eggsy stammered out as he shook Percival’s hand hard. “Rox talks about y’ all the time. Y’ work for MI5, right? Man, the things she’s said about y’. Did y’ really prevent that plot for Prime Minister Cameron?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Percival said, carefully extracting his hand from Eggsy’s, who was still shaking his arm. “We have a friend, he works with Harry. We were wondering if you’d be interested in going out with him in lieu of Harry.”

Eggsy shrugged. “Sure, don’t matter to me. Y’ got a pen?”

Harry withdrew his pen and handed it to Eggsy. Eggsy snitched a napkin from a passing waiter and jotted down a number. “Here are my digits. Just text me the bloke’s information.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Eggsy,” Harry said, accepting the napkin. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his inner pocket.

Eggsy gave them a weak salute as he turned to walk off. “Ta.”

“Well he’s interesting,” Percival commented when Eggsy was gone.

“A bit rough around the edges.”

“Hmm,” Percival turned into him and kissed his cheek. “If I recall, you use to like it with a… oh what was that saying, a bit o’ rough?”

“I still do.” Harry squeezed Percival’s hip.

“Well maybe tonight when I have you tied up, I can show you how rough I can be,” Percival purred, drawing Harry’s earlobe between his teeth.

Harry shuddered, digging his fingers into Percival’s side. A shot of hunger lanced through his stomach, straight to his thickening cock.

“Do we need to wait for the silent auction?” Harry asked, tone dropping an octave.

“Mmm, I think we’ve made our contribution,” Percival murmured, moist breath ghosting along Harry’s jaw.

Harry grabbed Percival’s hand and sprinted for the exit.

* * * *

Merlin didn’t get up when there was a knock at the door. He ignored the loud rapping and continued to type out the intricate coding he’d been working on for the last hour. Anyone of importance would know the security clearances to get into his apartment. Five minutes later—and he knew this because he began counting in his head after the first knock—the door to his office opened and Harry walked in, a bottle of scotch dangling from one hand and two tumblers in the other.

            “You know, the appropriate thing to do when one is knocking at your door, is to answer it,” Harry said. He walked over to Merlin’s desk and set the glasses down on the edge.

            “I’m busy and ye know how to let yerself in,” Merlin pointed out, only pausing in typing to accept the glass Harry handed him. “I don’t know why ye even bother knocking, ye know I won’t answer.”

            “Because a gentleman never enters unannounced.” Harry folded himself into a low back leather chair, crossing his long legs at the knee. He swirled the scotch in his glass, amber prisms scattering across the top of the desk, and smiled at Merlin.

            “Ye made that up.” Merlin rolled his eyes.

            “Perhaps, but it’s still very rude to leave a guest knocking at your door, or worse, put them through a gauntlet just to get in. Did you up your security?”

            “It was getting too easy for ye,” Merlin said. He leaned back in his seat, studying Harry, who picked a piece of dust off his pant leg. He narrowed his gaze. “What have ye done?”

            “Done? What would give you such an idea?”

            Merlin snorted and set his glass down. He turned back to his computer, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know, maybe because I’ve known ye for over twenty years, and anytime ye get that doe-eyed look, I wind up with ‘naughty slut’ tattooed across my arse.”

            “That was one time, and if I remember correctly, you were the one that bought the last three shots.”

            “Yes, but ye suggested the tattoos.”

            “It isn’t like I didn’t get one that night as well.” Harry took another drink, hiding a smirk.

            “Ye got a small ‘P’ on your hip, that doesn’t count.” Merlin added another like of coding.

            “Percival enjoys it.”

            “I’m sure he does. Now what did ye do?” Merlin looked over the screen at Harry, eyebrows raised. He didn’t stop typing. The only time Harry got a contrite look was when he knew Merlin would say no. He thought if he went doe-eyed, he might soften Merlin up, but after twenty years of disarming smiles and backwards logic, Merlin had grown immune to Harry’s charms.

            “Did I tell you about the gala Percival and I went to for Roxy?” Harry placed his glass next to Merlin’s. “The women’s association held a charity event for the fire station. Dreadfully boring, but they had some wonderful prizes auctioned off.”

            “Ye came to bother me about that?” Merlin dropped his gaze back to the monitor. “It couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”

            “No, and don’t be so obtuse,” Harry said. “Aren’t I allowed to spend time with my dear friend—who insists on sequestering himself in his house like a character in a Stephen King novel?”

            “I do not.”

            “You do,” Harry insisted. “When was the last time you went out?”

            “I went to your house for dinner last Sunday,” Merlin stated with a triumphant smirk.

            Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, popping by for Sunday supper is quite the event. I mean out as in _out_ , like a date.”

            Merlin opened his mouth, but when he couldn’t come up with a date, he snapped his mouth closed and glared.

            “That’s what I thought,” Harry said with a sniff. “You haven’t been on one since you broke up with Ronan. And that was three years ago.”

            “No it—”

            Harry held up his hand, cutting Merlin off. “Don’t even try to argue. I see you every day, I know.”

            “And what’s the point of all this?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “I got you a date—with a fireman, I might add.”

            “And how did ye manage that? Picked one out in the crowd?” Merlin trusted Harry with his life, but that didn’t mean he trusted Harry’s word.

            “Ah, see, that’s the thing. I maybe have won it in an auction.” Harry picked up his glass and drained the last of his Scotch.

            “Won?” Why wasn’t Merlin surprised? “No, absolutely not. I’m not going on a date ye _paid_ for.”

            “He’s handsome and funny, and he sounded very interested.”

            “Oh did he? I somehow doubt that. No, and that’s final. Now get out, I have work to do.”

            “It’s either go on the date or I finally let James set you up. The only reason he hasn’t is because I threatened him with bodily harm after the Bors fiasco.”

            Merlin shuddered. Before he met Ronan, he’d agreed to go out with James’s friend Bors. While Bors was a decent enough fellow, he had an affinity for explosives. By the end of the date, Merlin ended up covered in soot and facing arson charges.

            “Fine,” Merlin grumbled. “I’ll go on the bloody date, but afterwards ye leave me be, understood?”

            “Whatever you say.” Harry stood and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a card and set it down between the crystal tumblers. “Here are the details. Do wear something other than that ratty sweater.”

            Merlin looked down at his frayed green sweater and pulled at a loose thread. “What’s wrong with this?” Harry gave him a deadpanned look. Merlin sighed heavily through his nose. “Fine. I’ll make sure to put on something pretty, will that please ye?”

            “Yes,” Harry said. “I expect a full report the next day. Percival will make crepes.”

            Merlin waved him off, grumbling under his breath about meddling busy bodies. Harry left, closing the door behind him. Merlin picked up the card Harry set down. It was his business card and scrawled on the back in neat cursive was the time, date, and place.

            Merlin shook his head and set the card back down, swapping it for his glass of scotch. He drained the rest of his drink. A date? The scotch in his stomach solidified into a hard amber stone.

There was a reason he didn’t date. He wasn’t exactly a people person. What had Ronan called him? A cyborg reject for the Turing Test.

 _One date. Just one date._ Then he can go back to what he understood: computers. Merlin set his empty glass down on the card.


	2. It's Really Just a Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is surprised when he discovers who his date is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished work early so I could edit the next chapter! Self-betaed, so sorry for any mistakes.

Merlin almost canceled. He would have, honestly, had Harry not only sent shown up an hour before Merlin was due to leave.

            “Ye dinnae have to come over,” Merlin huffed as he debated over which sweater to wear. They looked absolutely the same, both cashmere with suede shoulder pads, but one was a deep hunter green with dark chocolate shoulder pads, and the other was more of a warm gray with pale mocha details.

            Harry browsed through Merlin’s closet, ignoring the remark. “You aren’t wearing one of those sweaters.”

            “Why not?” Merlin demanded, picking up the green sweater.

            “Just put this on,” Harry said, turning around with a button down draped over his arm. “I have Percival on standby, ready to hit send on a text for James, so don’t press me.”

            Merlin scowled at Harry. “Ye’re becoming more and more of a busy body in yer old age. Isn’t it about time ye and Percival move to the country to raise bees or something?

            Harry rolled his eyes and shook his arm. “Shirt, now if you would be so kind. I do have plans later tonight, and I would rather not be late for them.”

            “All you’ll be doing is going home to your husband and watching Pretty Woman,” Merlin said, accepting the shirt with a grumble. He tugged his threadbare sweater off and slid on the green shirt Harry had chosen. When he finished buttoning it, he turned to face Harry, arms held out, and stated, “I look like a git.”

            “You look dashing. Now put on this jacket,” Harry instructed, passing Merlin a black blazer.

            Merlin did as he was told, mostly because it was easier to listen to Harry than try to argue. He’d change into the sweater when he got Harry out.

            “There, you look wonderful. He won’t know what hit him,” Harry said.

            “Are we done here?” Merlin asked. He studied himself in the mirror, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. He didn’t look awful, but he felt like the villain in a Robert Ludlum novel.

            “I’m walking you to the car,” Harry said.

            “Ye can’t be serious. I dinnae need ye babysitting me Harry. I’ll go on the bloody date,” Merlin snapped.

            “I’m sure you will, but I also know you, and you’ll dilly dally until you’re late, hoping the poor fellow will leave. Now move it, you’re running behind,” Harry said. He waited at the door, checking his watch pointedly.

            Merlin glared at him, mentally willing for Harry to self-combust, but when Harry didn’t burst into flames (the retardant arsehole), Merlin stomped out of the room. Harry, true to word, followed Merlin down to his car, and didn’t leave until Merlin drove off.

            Merlin grumbled under his breath the entire drive, not stopping to think about the fact that he was going on his first date in three years, until he parked his Porsche in front of the restaurant. He stared out his windshield, hands flat against the steering wheel, and considered turning around and heading home. Harry would be gone now, he wouldn’t keep his precious Percival waiting too long.

            Home was safety, comfort. Familiarity.

            “Ye’re being ridiculous, Eoin. Ye’re fifty years old, so get yer arse out of the car,” Merlin told himself, gaze never wavering. Was his date already here? Harry hadn’t told him what he looked like, simply to arrive at the destination on the agreed upon time. He could make out a few people sitting by the window, but they were all couples.

            His phone chirruped. He checked the alert, not surprised when he saw it was from Harry.

            **Get in there. He’ll be wearing a blue shirt.**

“Busy body,” Merlin laughed.

He silenced the phone, slipped it into his back pocket, and climbed out of the car. It was only a date. It wasn’t a marriage proposal. So why did it feel like he’d just run a marathon? His heart didn’t slow as he walked into the restaurant. It continued to spin further and further out of control, waltzing across the stars, and Merlin half expected the world to spin out into space with it.

            Merlin did another scan of the restaurant, able to make out a few more people. There were three people by themselves: a man in his twenties dressed in a navy sweater sitting in a booth, a middle-aged woman near the windows, and a handsome silver-haired man dressed in a light blue button down in the center. Merlin nodded to the maître d’. “I see my party.”

            He moved towards the center table to where the man with luxurious silver hair sat. At least Harry found someone age appropriate. He’d been afraid Harry may have tried to set him up with some young whelp.

            “Gary?” Merlin asked, stiffly holding his hand out. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

            The man blinked at him, confusion filtering through his brown eyes. “I’m sorry?”

Merlin dropped his hand and glanced around the restaurant. Luckily no one seemed to be paying attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, I—”

“Bruv, over here,” A foreign voice called from behind Merlin.

Merlin stiffened. _No._ Harry did _not_ set him up with the twenty year-old. “Apologies,” Merlin said hastily and turned around to look at the boy in the booth. And he was a boy. He looked like he hadn’t even been alive when Margret Thatcher had been Prime Minister.

_I’m going to kill Harry. Slowly._

Merlin walked over to the table, already constructing an excuse to make a quick escape. What was Harry thinking setting him up with someone half his age?

Though Merlin couldn’t deny that he was handsome. No, more than handsome. He was downright walking sex, with a wicked smile that could charm the panties off the Iron Lady herself. Merlin was pretty sure he could go swimming in those dimples.

_It doesn’t matter how gorgeous his smile is or how lovely his green eyes look or that his jaw could cut diamond. He’s too young, Eoin._

“Gary?” Merlin queried, even though it was clear who he was.

“Call me Eggsy,” he said, holding a hand out. “Are y’ Merlin? Pleasure to meet y’ guv. Harry told me a lot about y’.”

Merlin accepted his hand, noting the rough callouses and firm pressure of his fingers. “I wish I could say the same,” Merlin said. “I hope ye weren’t waiting long.”

“No, y’re good,” Eggsy said, letting go, and Merlin pretended that he didn’t miss the warmth of their palms touching.

Merlin slipped into the seat across from Eggsy. The waitress, who introduced herself as Susan, came by with a menu and took Merlin’s drink request. Since Eggsy already had a pint, Merlin decided he could allow himself one as well, and ordered a Guinness.

“I’ll be honest wif y’, Harry didn’t tell me much other than y’ work together,” Eggsy said, pint clasped between both of his hands. “Didn’t know wot to really expect. Bit surprised, if I was being truthful.”

The waitress brought his drink over. Merlin accepted it with a small smile, waiting until the waitress departed before he said, “Yes, well I’m sure if Harry had mentioned that I was old enough to be yer father, we could have both been spared this evening. Perhaps we should cut our losses early? I’m sure ye have better things to do with yer time than be seen with an old man.”

“Is that wot y’ really want?” Eggsy asked, slouching further back against the booth. He watched Merlin, smile never wavering, even as his gaze narrowed. “Because if y’ do, then we can call it a night. But the way I see it, this here is between me and y’, not anyone else. If they,”—Eggsy made a vague gesture in the direction of the restaurant—“have an issue with it, they can take their opinions and shove it up their arse wif along with the silver.”

Merlin made the mistake of taking a sip as Eggsy spoke and choked on the beer. He set the pint down and beat his chest to clear his airway.

“Y’ okay, bruv?” Eggsy laughed.

Merlin drew in a ragged breath. “Yes, fine.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. Fuck that burned. “Are ye always this blunt?”

“Don’t see the point in bullshitting,” Eggsy said. “Spent my whole life dealing with close-minded arsewipes. Only way I could make sumfin of myself was proving them wrong, and that meant learning to not care about wot anyone thinks. Y’ see, those people don’t care about me and y’, they just care about wot they think is proper. Don’t matter whether or not it works or makes anyone happy. It just needs to make sense to them. And us,”—Eggsy pointed between them—“we never going to make sense to anyone. Not just because y’ got twenty years on me, but because we each got stones between our legs.”

Merlin relaxed into his seat. “Ye’re right,” Merlin said. He picked up his pint and saluted Eggsy. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, mate,” Eggsy said and raised his pint. “Oh, and when I said I was surprised, I meant because of how handsome y’ were.”

Merlin’s face burned. At least he hadn’t been taking a sip that time. He didn’t know how to respond to the last comment, so he wisely chose to move the conversation in a different—and more comfortable—direction. “I do worth with Harry, by the way,” Merlin said.

“Yeah? Wot do y’ do?”

“I’m a software designer. We opened a company about twenty years ago, which specializes in computer and information security, though we’re branching out into other fields as well,” Merlin explained. He didn’t let his thoughts linger on the fact that Eggsy would have been born when they started Kingsman. “Our systems are implemented all over the world.”

“No shit? Y’ have any big clients?” Eggsy asked. He set his pint down and folded his arms over the table, leaning forward in rapt attention.

“We just renewed our contract with MI-5, though if I’m being honest, that partially has to do with Harry’s husband. It helps to know someone on the inside.”

The waitress came back around and took the orders. Merlin fumbled to pick up the menu. He’d forgotten that they were there to eat and not just share a pint. He gave the menu a once over, naming the first thing his gaze settled on.

“Ye work with Roxy, correct?” Merlin asked after the waitress left with their orders.

“Yeah, she’s aces,” Eggsy said. “Puts up with a lot of crap, but she gives as good as she gets.”

They went back and forth, Eggsy following up Merlin’s questions with one of his own, until Merlin fell into a tangent about starting up Kingsman, and the time Harry got locked out of his hotel room without his pants, and how Merlin had to be the one to explain to the front desk what happened.

“That was before he met Percival. He’s calmed down since then,” Merlin said.

“They seem really in love.” Eggsy paused as he cut into his steak. “Have they been together long?”

“Almost ten years,” Merlin said.

“Wot about y’? Y’ ever been married?” Eggsy took a bite, never breaking eye contact.

Merlin tried to keep his expression neutral as he cut into his own filet. “No,” Merlin answered. It came out colder then he meant, and he tried to soften it with a smile, but he was pretty sure it turned into a grimace.

“Me neither,” Eggsy said with a cheeky grin and a wink. “That’s five things we have in common so far.”

Merlin blinked, brain stumbling to catch up with the conversation. “Five things?” Merlin asked.

“Yeah.” Eggsy set down his fork and knife and held up his hand. “First we both love dogs, and then we both have an appreciation for speculative fantasy,” Eggsy ticked each one off on his hand. “A mutual belief that Han shot first.”

 Merlin tried his hardest not to grin. With each curl of Eggsy’s fingers, Merlin’s stomach gave another little flip, as if it were trying to launch off a cliff and fly away.

He was way too old to be getting flustered, damn it.

“We agree that Black Widow deserves a movie of her own,” Eggsy said.

“She does, and quite frankly I’m appalled at the direction Whedon has taken her character,” Merlin said more aggressively than necessary.

Eggsy smiled and wrapped his thumb around his fist. “And neither of us have been married. Five things. Not bad.”

“Six,” Merlin corrected, picking up his fork and knife.

“Six?” Eggsy repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, and it’s a very important one.”

“Wot is it?”

“We both agree that Harry is an idiot,” Merlin said.

Eggsy grinned, eyes lighting up. Merlin’s breath hitched. Fuck, did he like how exhilarated Eggsy looked when he smiled.

What did he look like when he was lost in ecstasy?

Merlin stole a glance down, trying to imagine what was beneath the sweater Eggsy wore. His shoulders were broad and thick; he was a firefighter, so he had to be fit. Was his stomach and chest all solid muscle weight or was it the granite-carved kind that Merlin could wash a shirt on?

What would his hands feel like on Merlin’s hips? Would he leave finger-shaped bruises? Oh, there was a lovely thought. Merlin knew he shouldn’t let his mind go there, but it was a tempting trail, filled with wonderful images of himself bent over his desk and Eggsy plowing him from behind. He bet Eggsy was very vocal.

“He isn’t so bad,” Eggsy said. “He was smart enough to arrange this, wasn’t he?”

Merlin drained the last of his beer and set the empty glass down. “Perhaps ye’re right,” Merlin agreed with a small smile. “But we shouldn’t let him know, it’ll go straight for his head and he’s already onerous as it is. I swear the only thing preventing him from going full-Machiavellian is Percival and his own oddly true moral compass.”

Eggsy chuckled. “Did I tell y’ I thought he was propositioning me for a three way? He kept going on about a unique situation, and I was sure this was just some toff wanting a bit o’ the rough. His face went beet red when I told him I was flattered, but didn’t go for that kind o’ thing.”

“Oh, I would have loved to see him flounder. Especially since he can get so full of himself. Ye have to knock him down a peg occasionally, keeps him from getting altitude sickness.”

Susan returned with the check, and they both reached for it. Merlin paused, hand hovering over the black book. “Please, let me,” Merlin said.

“Supposed to be me taking y’ out, remember?” Eggsy said. He retrieved the check in a blink, fingers deftly snatching up the black book before Merlin could even process what had happened. “And don’t try to pull that I’m older bullshite.”

“I wasn’t,” Merlin defended with a frown. “But I don’t see why ye should shoulder the expense. We’ll split it, fair?”

Eggsy studied Merlin, and Merlin half expected him to argue further, but Eggsy nodded and showed Merlin the check. “Next time I treat, yeah?”

“Next time?” Merlin paused in opening his wallet, looking up at Eggsy. Merlin’s mouth went dry at the sight of Eggsy’s resplendent smile, which brightened up his eyes. They weren’t just green, but layers of pigments, as deep as the darkest forest and as brilliant as the glens of Scotland. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled, and a spark went off, as if lightning were streaking across his irises. Merlin wondered absently what it would be like to see them in the morning, leaden and sleepy.

“Course,” Eggsy said, sliding his credit card into the slot. Merlin snapped out of his daze and placed his credit card on top of Eggsy’s. “That is, if y’d like to go out again.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say—he hadn’t exactly expected a second date. He’d just been worried about getting through this one.

But now that he realized their evening was drawing towards an end, Merlin didn’t want to say goodbye. He wanted to stay the center of Eggsy’s attention for a little longer, to pretend that they were the only two that existed. Merlin felt like a flower reaching for the sun. He wasn’t prepared for the clouds darkening the horizon.

“I’d like that,” Merlin said. “I’d like that a lot.”

Susan returned with their cards, and when the bill was closed out, Eggsy walked Merlin to his car. He looked Merlin’s sleek black 911 Carrera over and whistled. “Maybe y’ _should_ pay next time.”

            He would, Eggsy needn’t ask. Especially if it meant another chance to spend time with him. “Of course, I—”

            “Kidding, Merlin,” Eggsy said, stepping closer. “But y’ can pick me up. Here, gimmie y’r phone.”

            “My phone?”

            Eggsy extended his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Yeah, y’r phone.” Merlin hesitated, not one to readily give up his cell phone. His life quite literally was in the device, and if anything were to happen to it, he’d be beyond screwed. “I ain’t going to steal it, promise,” Eggsy said when Merlin didn’t cough up the phone.

            Merlin flushed and fished out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and set it in Eggsy’s palm. Eggsy typed something into his phone, and then handed it back. “That’s my number. Text me and we’ll figure out a day, okay?”

            “All right,” Merlin said, clutching onto the phone. He got Eggsy’s number. He felt like he should have an achievement unlocked or something, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever gotten anyone’s number.

Eggsy wound his hand in Merlin’s lapel, and Merlin realized that he was taller by a good two to three inches, leaving Eggsy at shoulder height. Eggsy stood on his toes, tugging Merlin down in the process, and kissed the corner of Merlin’s mouth. Eggsy pulled back before Merlin could respond and winked. “See y’ Merlin.”

Eggsy left, leaving Merlin standing there. The corner of Merlin’s mouth prickled where Eggsy’s lips had been. Merlin looked down at the number added to his phone.

**Eggsy ‘The Hot Fireman’ Unwin.**

            Merlin shook his head, biting back a grin, and slipped his phone back in his pocket. As he settled behind the steering wheel of his car, he realized belatedly that he now owed Harry a bottle of scotch. _Bastard isn’t going to let this one go._

* * * *

            Merlin was running off of adrenaline and endorphins the next morning, but by ten o’clock he’d forgotten about everything but work. Kingsman was in the early stages of a new project—lovingly named Project Rainmaker—and Merlin’s complete attention was focused on the latest reports. He didn’t look at his phone once as he slogged through field reports, e-mails, and alpha tests, all the while also switching back and forth between alterations to the codes for Rainmaker.

            He worked through lunch, tea, and even an investment meeting with Harry and three of their biggest investors. Merlin didn’t pause in his work until a sharp knock at the door jostled him from his thoughts. He looked up from the monitor, vision blurry, and called hoarsely, “Come in.”

            Coming out of the zone was the equivalent of coming up for air after holding his breath underwater. It took Merlin a few seconds to process his surroundings and the minute changes that took place while he concentrated on the computer screen. Shadows had shifted around the room as the sun trekked across the sky. It was nearly three, and Merlin’s stomach gave a disapproving grumble at being ignored.

            Harry entered his office. He took one look at Merlin and rolled his eyes. “I should have known,” Harry said with a sigh. He walked over to the desk and set a white paper bag down. “Eat.”

            Merlin fished out the plastic cup of fruit and bagel. “Thank ye.” He opened the fruit and popped a grape into his mouth.

            “That meeting was important, you know,” Harry said.

            “No it wasn’t,” Merlin said around a mouthful of melon. “And ye didn’t need me there. Ye’re the snake charmer. Ye deal with those tory bastards, while I work in the back. It’s why we made ye the face of the company and not me, even though I’m the better looking one.”

            “Better looking?” Harry took a seat, leaning forward to steal a grape from Merlin. “You’re a white cat and a scar away from being Blofeld.”

            “And I suppose that would make ye Bond?” Merlin quirked an eyebrow. “Ye do share his same arrogance.”

            Harry flicked his grape at Merlin, which hit him in the cheek and fell to the floor. “Oh piss off.”

            “Did ye come to scold me or did ye actually have something important to say?” Merlin broke off a piece of his bagel.

            “I came to see how your date went, you incorrigible arse.”

            “Date?” Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, chewing thoughtfully on the bagel section. It hit him with the force of a sledge hammer. Date! Eggsy! The rush of memories stirred the nerves in his stomach. He swore he could feel Eggsy’s lips against his skin again and the weight of his hand on his chest.

            “From that stupid grin on your face, I’d take it everything went well,” Harry said with a smug smile, satisfaction brightening his eyes. “I’ll take a bottle of Glenfiddich. Eighteen years will do.”

            “Wipe that shit-eating look off yer face,” Merlin said. He finished the last of his bagel and wiped the crumbs from his fingers. “Ye didn’t tell me he was half my age!”

            “Did it matter? You had a good time, didn’t you?”

            “I did, but that’s neither here nor there. It isn’t like I can go out with the lad again, even if he did ask me out,” Merlin said, and he knew he was right as soon as the words spilled out. The bagel sat heavily in his stomach, breaking down to ash. How swallowed, silt on his tongue, and reached for his icy cup of tea that had been forgotten at his elbow.

            “He asked you out again? Then what’s the problem?”

            “He’s half my age!”

            “And?” Harry cocked his head to the side, fixing Merlin with that damnable doe-eyed look. “What if he’s younger? Did it bother him?”

            “Well no—”

            “Were you attracted to him? Did you have a good time?” Harry pressed.

            “Yes, damn it,” Merlin answered through clenched teeth.

            “Then what, my dear Merlin, is the problem? Because as far as I can see, there isn’t one. And don’t say age, because that excuse is about as valid as the geocentric universe theory.”

            “A man of my age—”

            “Bollocks,” Harry spat. “When have you ever cared about what anyone says, or thinks for that matter?”

            Harry had a point. Merlin took a sip of his tea, grimacing at the bitter taste, and set the cup down. Harry shoved to his feet. “Have you called him?”

            “Well, no. I’ve been working.”

            “Text him, accept his offer. Do it, Merlin. You deserve to be happy, damn it.”

            Merlin didn’t say anything as Harry left. He looked over at his cellphone, which sat off to the side on his desk. He picked it up and opened his contacts, scrolling down to Eggsy’s entry. Did he really want to do this? To open himself up to someone else? The last time he’d let himself fall, he ended up crashing through the floor. Merlin had barely come out of it intact. He wasn’t sure if he’d survive another netless plunge into the unknown.

            Then again, he may lose out on something spectacular, and despite all of Merlin’s apprehensions, he desperately wanted to see Eggsy’s smile again, wanted to know what he sounded like caught up in the throes of passion, and what his eyes looked like come morning.

            Merlin drew in a deep breath and hit message.


	3. Burnt Toast and Charlie Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing ever goes as planned, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update won't be as quickly because I have to expand on some parts. I'm also editing the next chapter of We Will Make it There, which should be up in a day or so. Self-betaed, so sorry for any mistakes.

They went on three more dates in the span of two weeks. On the second date, Merlin took Eggsy to the movies. Through an exchange of texts, Merlin had learned that Eggsy’s favorite movie was _My Fair Lady_ , and when he discovered the local cinema was playing the classic, he bought tickets. On the third date, to Merlin’s horror, Eggsy took him to a skating rink, where Merlin held onto Eggsy’s arm and rolled around the polished wooden floor like a yearling learning to walk. The fourth date was on a Saturday afternoon when they both happened to have the day off. They ventured down to the London Zoo, where they split a thing of cotton candy and Eggsy made faces with the lemurs.

            Merlin had watched Eggsy tug at the corners of his mouth with his fingers and stick his tongue out. He had laughed at each face Eggsy made, a weightlessness growing in Merlin’s chest, until he felt as if he were a balloon floating into the atmosphere.

            They ended the day with sugary sweet kisses, which turned into a thorough snog on Merlin’s front doorstep. Merlin had wanted to invite Eggsy in, to offer dinner, and perhaps for dessert later, a nice helping of Merlin a la mode, but Eggsy had murmured about needing to go babysit his little sister, and Merlin had let him go with one final tonguing.

            Four wonderful, mesmerizing dates, and the furthest they’d gotten was a bit of groping in the backseat of Merlin’s Porsche the night they went skating. If things didn’t change soon, Merlin’s grave stone would be reading: _death by blue balls_.

            He didn’t push, though, because he didn’t want to do anything that could ruin what they had. Merlin would risk epididymal hypertension if it meant he could keep seeing Eggsy.

            Eggsy was the sunny spot in a cold, dark room, and Merlin wanted to bask in his glow for as long as possible. If they took things to the next level, it would drastically change their relationship, and Merlin didn’t know if that would be a good thing. What if Eggsy got bored with him? He was old and set in his ways. So far Eggsy had only seen him on his good days, but if things got serious, then Eggsy would discover that Merlin is obstinate and a workaholic, he spends hours locked in his office, and that Merlin has a tendency to speak harshly, even when he doesn’t mean it.

            Few people have been able to deal with Merlin on a level deeper than superficial. Harry is contumacious himself, so they share a kindred spirit, and by proxy, Percival accepts Merlin for who he is, but outside of his small circle of friends? Well, there’s James, but Merlin deals with the randy bastard in small doses.

            No, Merlin knew once things grew deeper, Eggsy would realize that he’s much better off with someone younger and more flexible (both physically and emotionally). But Christ, did Merlin want to suck his cock. The feel of it pressed against his leg, thick and hot, sent a spark through Merlin’s veins, turning them into livewires.

             Merlin dressed in a pair of dark wash slacks, which may or may not have clung tightly to his arse, and his favorite green sweater. Despite what Harry believes about his sweaters, Eggsy professed a love of the cashmere material the night they went to the movies. It had been all Merlin could do to keep Eggsy from pawing at him in public. After the lights had gone down, Eggsy hadn’t kept his hands to himself, taking every opportunity to brush his fingers along Merlin’s arm, or across his shoulder.

            Tonight would be their fifth date. Fifth.

            “You better watch yourself,” Harry teased, “You’ll be in a relationship before you know it.”

            Relationship. As in boyfriends. Merlin frowned at himself in the mirror. That sounded so juvenile. Lovers? No. That sounded tawdry.

            Partners.

            He liked that.

            A little too much, actually.

            “Mind yer self, Eoin,” Merlin said. “Ye don’t want to get in over yer head.”

            He checked his watch, realized he was running behind,—he was getting as bad as Harry—and rushed out the door, barely remembering to grab his wallet and the bottle of wine on the way out.

            Twenty minutes later he was standing in front of Eggsy’s flat, which while considerably smaller than Merlin’s, was a lovely complex with cream walls and Edwardian light fixtures. Merlin knocked on the door, bottle clutched in his other hand.

            There was a bit of raucous behind the door, a crash, and then Eggsy shouted, “One second!”

            He opened the door two minutes later, cheeks flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. Without even thinking about it, Merlin leaned down and kissed him. Eggsy made a surprised sound, but wrapped his hand around the back of Merlin’s neck to hold him in place, and enthusiastically returned the kiss.

            “I brought wine,” Merlin said, lips still firmly pressed against Eggsy’s.

            “Great,” Eggsy said, tugging Merlin closer.

He swiped his tongue along Merlin’s bottom lip, and Merlin obliged him by opening his mouth. They remained standing in the threshold of Eggsy’s entrance, snogging one another an inch from their life, until a door opened and closed down the hall, jostling them apart. Merlin flushed, not sure what came over him, and held up the bottle.

Eggsy accepted the wine. “Come in, dinner should be ready.”

Merlin toed off his shoes and sniffed the air, which was ripe with the scent of garlic and tomatoes. “It smells delicious,” Merlin said, following Eggsy into the kitchen that was just off to the right of the hall.

Eggsy opened the bottle of wine and set it down at the bistro table, which was already set for dinner. “I hope y’ like parmesan chicken.”

“I do,” Merlin said, then asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just finishing up. I have some cheese in the fridge, will y’ grab it?” Eggsy went over to a boiling pot and poured it out into a strainer.

Eggsy finished platting the pasta as Merlin retrieved the parmesan. They settled around the table and Merlin took a bite of the angel hair mixed with a piece of chicken. The flavor burst on his tongue, and if he thought he was only half-gone on Eggsy before, he knew he was completely besotted with him after tasting the chicken. Merlin moaned. “Oh fuck me.”

“I’d like to,” Eggsy said.

Merlin started choking on his bite. Eggsy froze, face as red as the tomato sauce. Merlin hastily poured himself a glass of wine and downed it, trying to clear his airway.

“I uh, I meant,” Eggsy stammered.

Merlin set his glass down, drawing in a ragged breath, and said hoarsely, “Ye gotta stop making me choke.”

Eggsy smirked, the tension easing from his eyes. “Y’d almost say… I take y’r breath away.”

Merlin groaned. “Oh, ye’re as bad as Harry. No, no ye don’t get to do puns. I forbid it.”

“It was funny!” Eggsy poured Merlin a second glass, then himself some wine.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No it wasn’t.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Maybe a little.” He cut into his chicken, taking another bite. When he swallowed, he said, “This is really good. The most I can do is heat up a can of sauce.”

Eggsy scrunched his nose up in disdain. “Bruv, no. Just, no. Yuck. Y’ need the real stuff. That shit is all artificial and filled with preservatives. It’ll kill y’, swear down it will.”

“Well sorry, we can’t all be world class chefs,” Merlin grumbled, though it didn’t stop him from eating.

“I’m teaching y’ how to cook. I can’t have my boyfriend withering away while I’m not around,” Eggsy said.

Merlin froze, glad he hadn’t taken a bite of food yet. He met Eggsy’s gaze. “Boyfriend?” It came out softer than he meant, in a raspy whisper that was nearly deafened by his pounding heart.

Eggsy’s eyes widened as he realized what he said. “I meant—fuck, mum said I didn’t know when to shut up. Look, Merlin, I didn’t mean—I mean—”

Merlin held a hand up, and Eggsy snapped his mouth closed, eyes distressed. Merlin reached across the table and settled his hand on Eggsy’s. “I like it.”

            He smiled, and Eggsy returned the gesture, relief flooding his face. Merlin paused, sniffing the air. “Is something burning?” He asked with a quirked brow.

            Eggsy shot to his feet, knocking Merlin’s hand away, and gasped. “The garlic bread!”

            Eggsy raced to the stove, only remembering to grab an oven mitt when Merlin yelled, “Ye can’t pick it up with yer bare hands, ye eedjit!”

            Eggsy dumped the chard bricks of bread into the sink, turning the water on. A hiss of steam released from the blackened loafs.

            “Shit,” Eggsy hissed, glowering at what had probably been delicious garlic bread. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

            Merlin wiped his mouth clean and stood. He walked over to Eggsy and wrapped his arms around him from behind, propping his chin on Eggsy’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, it was only bread.”

            “Yeah, but I wanted everything to be perfect,” Eggsy grumbled, his mouth downturned into a pout.

            It was charming how much Eggsy was concerned with such a minute detail, when all Merlin cared about was being with him. They could have been eating boxed macaroni and cheese and Merlin would have been happy.

            He kissed Eggsy’s cheek. “It is.”

            Eggsy twisted around, and Merlin let his arms go slack so Eggsy could easily move. Eggsy’s mouth was on his, hot and wet, tasting faintly of garlic and tart tomatoes, and Merlin groaned, swiping his tongue inside to get a better taste. Eggsy fisted his hand in Merlin’s sweater with a growl. His teeth scraped along Merlin’s bottom lip, snagging against the tender flesh.

            Merlin broke away, panting, “Dinner.”

            Eggsy surged back up, teeth clashing against Merlin’s, and locked their mouths together. Merlin wasn’t sure he’d ever been so thoroughly tongue-fucked before. He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself, his trembling knees threatening to give out as Eggsy pressed close, the hard line of his body molded into Merlin’s.

            “Fuck dinner,” Eggsy breathed.

            Those two words shouldn’t have turned Merlin on as much as they did, but at that moment all he wanted was to drop to his knees and suck Eggsy’s cock.

            “Bed room?” Merlin asked between kisses.

            Eggsy grunted, nipping at Merlin’s bottom lip, before letting go of his sweater. He grabbed Merlin’s hand and dragged him out of the kitchen and down a small hall. Eggsy hauled him into the bedroom, kicked the door shut, and shoved Merlin onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a bounce.

            “Fuck, been thinking about this since the first date,” Eggsy confessed as he tugged his shirt off.

            “Weren’t disappointed it was such an old man that ye got set up with?” Merlin asked. He shoved himself up by his elbows as Eggsy dropped his shirt to the floor. His body was carved from hard labor and endless hours at the gym. Merlin knew his shoulders were thick, but seeing them in person, up close, was a whole different thing. He wasn’t lean sinewy muscle, but solid strength that was packed on. Raw want zinged through Merlin. His cock thickened against his trousers, threatening to pop the zipper.

            Eggsy had muscles Merlin didn’t know existed. He wasn’t ashamed of his own body—for a computer nerd, as Harry so endearingly called him, he spent a good deal of time at the gym—but Eggsy had the advantage of both youth and a job that kept him on his toes.

            Eggsy bent at the waist, giving Merlin a glimpse at a constellation of freckles and moles spilling over his shoulders, and removed his socks.

            “Bruv,” Eggsy said as he straightened, “Y’ ain’t old.”

            “I am old,” Merlin corrected. “I’m not ashamed—but still, it can’t exactly have been what ye were hoping for.”

            Eggsy walked over to the Merlin and straddled his waist, knees digging into the mattress. He took Merlin’s face in both his hands, preventing him from looking away.

            “I thought we talked about this already?” Eggsy asked, the lust in his eyes fading to concern. Merlin regretted bringing the subject up. He didn’t want to get into a domestic, he wanted to get fucked. “I knew y’ weren’t going to be my age. Harry had said a friend, and he don’t look like the kind to hang out with twenty sumfins.”

            “No, I suppose not,” Merlin agreed, tipping his head up. “But—”

            “No buts,” Eggsy said. He kissed him, slow and languid, unrushed by a bolt of need. When he parted, he added, “Y’re everything I hoped for.”

            Merlin sealed their mouths together again, desperate to close the distance between them, to erase any space that kept them apart. He reached blindly between them and fumbled with Eggsy’s belt. Eggsy reached between his hands to go for his own pants, and they struggled to strip. Eventually Merlin pulled away from Eggsy with a frustrated groan.

            “Off,” Merlin grunted, and Eggsy obliged. Merlin stood and divested himself of his clothes, removing everything but his briefs.

            “Fuck, bruv, and y’re worried about me thinking y’re too old?” Eggsy shoved his pants down, stepping out of the jeans and kicking them to the side. “It ain’t legal how fucking fit y’ are.”

            Merlin’s skin prickled under the intensity of Eggsy’s stare. He smirked, sliding back onto the bed, and asked with a cocked brow. “So are ye going to fuck me or are ye just going to stare?”

            Eggsy palmed his cock through his boxers, cursing up a blue streak. He was on Merlin a flash, shoving him down into the pillows and pinning his hands above his head by the wrists. “When I’m done, y’ ain’t going to walk straight for a week,” Eggsy promised in a gravely growl.

            “Promises,” Merlin chuckled breathlessly. A shiver raced down his spine, the start of a fire that ignited in his veins.

Eggsy rolled his hips, cock bumping against Merlin’s. “That’s a guarantee,” Eggsy whispered into his ear, catching Merlin’s ear lobe between his teeth. He nibbled at the tender flesh, before mouthing his way down the sharp line of his jaw.

Merlin shuddered, spreading his legs wider apart so Eggsy could fit better between his thighs. Eggsy kissed his way down Merlin’s jaw to his neck, and then licked a stripe up the column of his throat. Merlin tugged at his hands, but Eggsy tightened his grip, growling into the curve of his collar. Merlin groaned in frustration, humping up to gain more friction.

“Don’t tease an old man,” Merlin panted, hooking one leg around Eggsy’s waist and digging the heel of his foot into his arse. He dragged Eggsy closer, pelvises pressed tight against one another, and ground up. The front of his boxers grew wet and sticky, clinging to his straining prick.

“Y’ ain’t old,” Eggsy all but snarled, kissing Merlin fiercely. “Stop saying it.”

Merlin paused, staring up at Eggsy, who glowered down at him. Eggsy didn’t stop rocking against Merlin, but his brow was set in a frustrated line. Merlin swallowed thickly and nodded. “Okay,” He whispered. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Eggsy’s expression smoothed out. He leaned over Merlin and nuzzled his collarbone. “Y’ ain’t,” Eggsy repeated. “Y’re just my Merlin.”

Merlin’s heart fluttered at the endearment. He tugged at his right hand, and Eggsy released it, allowing Merlin to bury his fingers in Eggsy’s hair. “Yers,” Merlin reassured.

Eggsy nibbled at his collarbone, tongue tracing a series of digits and letters that were written in Merlin’s skin. “Wot are these?” Eggsy asked, breath ghosting over the damp spot.

It took Merlin’s brain a moment to process the question. He glanced down, squirming beneath Eggsy. “What?” He asked breathlessly.

“These letters and numbers.” Eggsy sucked at the string of data for emphasis.

Merlin dropped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Oh, that. I got it years ago. It’s the first line of coding I wrote when Harry and I started Kingsman,” Merlin explained.

“Do y’ got anymore tattoos?” Eggsy asked, chin propped on Merlin’s collar now.

Merlin opened his eyes, flushing. Oh yes, he had more. One particular one he knew he couldn’t hide from Eggsy, but rather not share. He nudged Eggsy off and nodded, “I have a few.” He turned his hand over and held his left arm out, revealing the smooth skin of his inner arm. Just under the bend of his elbow, high enough to hide if necessary, was Einstein’s special relatively formula.

“Wot’s this?” Eggsy asked, stroking the numbers and lines. It was written at a slight slant, as if copied from someone’s own personal script.

“It’s the formula for special relatively.” At Eggsy’s confused look, Merlin explained, “What it means is nothing is absolute, the universe is fluid and moves differently for all. It dilates, going faster, slowing down. We aren’t simply observers, but facets of the universe.”

Merlin lifted his arm up and twisted his body, revealing another string of numbers running down the the length of his ribs, from just below his arm pit to the top of his boxers. It was a serious of numbers, starting with ‘3.14’ and ending with an elipse after going down in a five rows.

“Fuck, how many do y’ got?” Eggsy stroked the numbers. “I know this one, Pi, right?”

“Yes. I find it very beautiful—somewhere in that equation ye exist, just as I do. Connecting us, and the rest of the universe.”

“Most people get their favorite footie team, but not y’,” Eggsy chuckled and pressed a kiss to the Pi tattoo. “They’re beautiful.”

Merlin laid back on the bed, dropping his arms above his head. Eggsy pressed a trail of kisses down his chest, stopping only briefly to bite gently at Merlin’s nipples. There was a bolt of titillating pain at the scrape of teeth and swipe of tongue, setting a spark that scattered through Merlin’s belly.

“Fuck,” Merlin groaned, leg jerking when Eggsy found a spot just below his belly button. “Fucking hell. No more talking. Fuck me, ye bastard.”

Eggsy stopped, cheek flat against Merlin’s stomach, and laughed. “Did y’ really just call me a bastard?”

Merlin huffed, nudging Eggsy’s head down. “Ye are one, torturing me like this.”

“It’s called foreplay,” Eggsy pointed out, shifting so his chin was propped against Merlin’s hip and he could look up at him. “Ain’t anyone ever worship y’r body properly before?”

Eggsy hooked his fingers along the hem of Merlin’s briefs and gave them a tug, drawing them back an inch. He pressed a kiss as the newly exposed flesh. “Hm?”

“No,” Merlin gasped, squirming beneath Eggsy as he dotted his kisses along his hip like morose code. “Can’t recall that anyone has.”

That made Eggsy stop and frown. “Really?”

Merlin didn’t particularly care for the sad look in Eggsy’s eyes, so he shoved teasingly at his face. “No, but its fine lad.”

“No it ain’t,” Eggsy huffed. “Y’ deserve to be cherished.”

Well that lit a bonfire in Merlin’s chest. He licked his lips and murmured, “Got ye now, don’t I?”

“Y’ do,” Eggsy said, and with a final tug, pulled Merlin’s briefs down. His cock slapped against his belly, leaking precum as if he were some adolescent boy. Eggsy removed his briefs and then settled between Merlin’s thighs. He nipped at Merlin’s inner thighs, mapping his way across every freckle, blemish, and scar, until he reached the crux of his leg, where bit and sucked.

Merlin threw his head back, grabbing fistfuls of Eggsy’s hair with both hands, and moaned. Eggsy didn’t relent as he sucked and bit, determined to create a patchwork of bruises along Merlin’s thighs, soundly marking him as _Eggsy’s_.

“Fuck, lad,” Merlin gasped, half-delirious was pleasure. He tugged at his tendrils, but Eggsy refused to let up, determined to leave Merlin mad with ecstasy. “Eggsy, fuck, come on—fuck me already!”

Eggsy lifted his head, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, and grinned. “Y’ just had to ask.”

Merlin grunted, biting back a snide remark. Eggsy leaned over Merlin to rummage through the nightstand drawer. Merlin took the opportunity to return some of the favor, and latched onto Eggsy’s throat, finding a little dark mole that stood alone next to his Adam’s apple. He licked and sucked at the beauty mark, taking his time to lather it in adoration, as he simultaneously tweaked Eggsy’s nipples.

“Ah, shit,” Eggsy hissed, spine arching. He slammed the drawer closed and nudged Merlin back with a grunt. “Fuck, keep that up and we won’t make it far.”

Merlin smirked. “Isn’t the advantage of having a younger boyfriend the increased recovery rate?”

“Fucker,” Eggsy laughed, shoving his shoulder. “We’ll see who’s cracking jokes when y’ got an arse full of cock.”

Eggsy shoved his briefs down, and Merlin nearly melted into the bed at the sight of Eggsy’s glorious cock, thick and brimming with precum. He wasn’t quite as long as Merlin, but where he lacked length, he made up for in girth, and Merlin knew there’d be a nice after burn as Eggsy stretched him.

“Roll over for me,” Eggsy instructed, patting Merlin’s hip. He obeyed, not thinking about the final tattoo he failed to mention.

“Oi, wot’s this now?” Eggsy asked, and Merlin could hear the grin in his voice. “Naughty slut, eh?”

He gave a playful slam to Merlin’s arse, and Merlin jerked forward. “I was drunk, and it was Harry’s idea,” Merlin groused.

Eggsy chuckled. “Sure, bruv. Wot ever y’ say. Lets find out how much of a naughty slut y’ are, hm?”

Merlin groaned, which broke off into a shuddering moan when Eggsy pressed a slicked finger against his hole. He started with one, tracing Merlin’s rim with his index. He slid the finger in halfway, determined to move at a pace that wasn’t quite up to Merlin’s standards.

“I won’t break,” Merlin said, looking over his shoulder at Eggsy. “Ye dinnae have to treat me like a glass flower.”

Eggsy bit his arse cheek in response. He added a second finger, though, and Merlin felt the ebbing sting as Eggsy dragged his fingers along his inner wall. He made sure to reapply lube, before he slipped a third finger in. When Eggsy crooked his fingers, making a come hither motion, the pads of his fingers skimmed over the bundle of nerves rooted deep inside Merlin. His body lurched forward, reduced to a quivering mass of exposed wires.

“Like that?” Eggsy asked, mouth nestled against the dimples of Merlin’s lower back. He repeated the motion with his fingers, and Merlin’s arms gave out, his cheek hitting the mattress. He moaned, and he didn’t give a damn if he sounded like an eighties porno, because Christ did his body feel good. It sent a powder keg barreling through him, and if Eggsy didn’t stop soon, he’d explode.

Merlin fucked himself on Eggsy’s fingers, shimmying his legs further apart so Eggsy could reach deeper. Eggsy groaned behind him, leaning over Merlin to gain leverage as he slammed his hand into him.

Abruptly, Eggsy pulled his hand out, and Merlin was left with nothing but cold air and a gaping hole. He clenched his arse, whining into the mattress.

“Shit, fuck, y’ are a naughty slut,” Eggsy stammered, and Merlin could see him reaching between his legs to squeeze his balls. “Don’t fucking make those noises. Gonna fucking blow.”

Merlin reached back with both hands and grabbed his arse cheeks, parting them as wide as he could to expose his hole. “Fuck me, lad. Want yer thick cock in me.”

Eggsy gave his balls one more squeeze, before he grabbed a square foil and ripped it open with his teeth. He rolled the greased condom onto his flushed cock, then applied a bit more lubricant. Merlin continued to keep his arse spread as Eggsy shifted behind him. He only let go when Eggsy nudged his hands away.

He felt the fat blunt head of Eggsy’s dick nudge against his hole. He swallowed back another whine, focusing on breathing through his nose as Eggsy eased in. Fuck the powder keg, it had long since exploded, liquefying his insides and leaving behind an ocean of fire.

Eggsy rocked in and out, taking his time as he pushed deeper into Merlin. He groaned into Merlin’s ear, his chest settled flat against Merlin’s back. “Y’re so fucking tight.”

Merlin strained to turn his head, mouth seeking out Eggsy’s. It was a sloppy, awkward kiss, but Merlin didn’t care.

Eggsy didn’t let up until he was fully seated against Merlin’s arse. He took a few moments to catch his breath, and then drew back a few inches. The first thrust was slow, a test, but the second was like a like a hammer coming down. Merlin braced his arms against the mattress as Eggsy began a brutal pace, fucking into him as if he had every intention of fucking Merlin through the floor.

Merlin could feel the flames cresting in his chest, crashing down around him in smoldering waves, and he was helpless to do anything but _burn_.

Eggsy propped one leg up on the bed, calf flat against Merlin’s side, and picked up his pace. Merlin tried to form words, tried to say something about how amazing he felt, but his tongue was heavy, and his mind was caught in a whirlpool.

Then, suddenly, Eggsy froze. Merlin thought it was to come, but his fingers dug almost painfully into his sides, and he let out a curse. “Ow, ow, ow, fuck!”

Merlin looked back in alarm, his body drawn into a tight thin line. “What?” He asked in concern.

“Charlie horse,” Eggsy gasped. “Ow, shit, Charlie horse.”

Merlin blinked, mouth falling open as Eggsy pulled out so he could move his legs carefully. He started to massage his thigh, groaning, “Shit, I can’t fucking—a fucking Charlie horse!”

The fire bubbled and popped, and Merlin started to laugh deliriously. Eggsy scowled at him. “Ain’t funny.”

“Yes it is.” Merlin guffawed. “A fucking Charlie horse.” He rolled onto his back to make room for Eggsy, a sting shooting up his spine. “Come on, lay down. I’ll rub it out.”

Eggsy pouted, but did as Merlin instructed and stretched out his legs. Merlin shifted behind him, rock hard cock swinging between his legs, and lifted Eggsy’s leg. He bent it at the knee, massaging the tree-branch thick thigh. “How’s that?” Merlin asked.

Eggsy grunted, wincing. “Little deeper.”

“I think that’s what I’m supposed to be saying,” Merlin said, but dug his fingers into the meat of Eggsy’s leg.

Eggsy flopped his head back. “I can’t believe I got a damn Charlie horse.”

“It happens,” Merlin said, kissing the inside of Eggsy’s leg. “We’ll continue when ye’re better.”

“Burnt bread, now this. Some date, huh?”

Merlin pushed on Eggsy’s leg, trying to stretch the muscle. “It is. The best, actually.”

Eggsy met Merlin’s gaze, and his frown twitched up into a smile. “Yeah?”

“How’s yer leg?” Merlin asked.

Eggsy wiggled his toes. “Better.”

Merlin lowered Eggsy’s leg and crawled up his body, bracketing Eggsy’s face with both of his arms. “This is by far the best date I’ve ever had,” Merlin whispered, mouth brushing Eggsy’s. He reached behind him and took Eggsy’s cock in his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze, before guiding the head back towards his hole. He sunk down on Eggsy, and Eggsy’s eyes fluttered close.

Merlin took his time, savoring the feeling of having Eggsy once more inside him, and clenched around the heavy girth. When Merlin was seated completely on Eggsy’s cock, he started to move once more.

It wasn’t as desperate or brutal as before, but rather a slow build back up, the rekindling of dying embers, which grew brighter with each passing second. Eggsy grabbed onto Merlin’s hips and helped guide him as he moved. Merlin took his dick into his hand, so close to the edge that it only took a few twists of his fingers to send him plunging over.

He painted Eggsy’s abdomen with his spunk, still bouncing up and down on his cock. Eggsy followed, thrusting up so he was buried as deep as he could be in Merlin.

Merlin held his position until Eggsy relaxed beneath him. He lifted off of Eggsy when he felt his cock grow soft, and collapsed onto the bed next to him. Eggsy rolled over to face Merlin and kissed him gently.

“Will y’ stay the night?” Eggsy asked.

“Wouldn’t go anywhere even if I could,” Merlin said. They remained like that for a few more minutes, kissing occasionally, studying each other as if they were trying to burn every detail into their memories. Eventually Eggsy got up and fetched a damp cloth to clean them off, and then returned to the kitchen to scrounge up some food.

They ended up eating in bed, splitting a reheated plate of chicken and pasta, and then took a shower that ended with Merlin sucking Eggsy off. When they fell back into bed, Merlin was exhausted. He fell asleep with Eggsy’s head on his stomach and one hand tangled in his hair.


	4. The History of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimpses into Merlin's and Eggsy's relationship.

Merlin didn’t always get to see Eggsy due to their schedules. There was a period of time when Merlin didn’t see or speak with Eggsy for a whole week. When they were finally able to get together, Merlin was gagging for him so badly that Eggsy took him right up against the front door.

            Merlin was sure that eventually Eggsy would tire of him—of being ignored for days while Merlin became absorbed in one project or the other, or being confused as Merlin’s son whenever they went out. The night Eggsy had introduced Merlin to his mates Jamal and Ryan, they had looked at Merlin with barely veiled shock.

            Eggsy didn’t care. For whatever reason, Eggsy didn’t care that their age difference was beyond being respectable, or that Merlin was set in his ways, or that eight out of ten times Merlin forgot to respond to his text messages for at least three hours because he was too busy working on coding. Eggsy didn’t care that he was a fifty year old man who played World of Warcraft or that some nights Merlin was ready to turn in by nine o’clock.

            Eggsy wasn’t Ronan, and he didn’t hold Merlin being Merlin against him.

            So three months after Eggsy and Merlin had been together, Merlin finally told Eggsy his real name. They had just completed a marathon of fucking, where Eggsy had slowly, and completely, dismantled him. When they finished, Eggsy collapsed on top of him, ear over Merlin’s pounding heart, and Merlin carded his fingers through Eggsy’s sweaty locks.

            “Eoin,” Merlin said, staring at Eggsy’s ceiling. There were cobwebs that he’d need to clean, because Lord knew Eggsy wouldn’t.

            “Wot?” Eggsy tipped his head so he could look better at Merlin.

            “My real name is Eoin.”

            Eggsy didn’t say anything for a while, and Merlin almost thought he fell to sleep.

            “Do y’ want me to start calling y’ that?” Eggsy asked. He rolled over so he was lying on his belly over Eggsy. He kissed his chest. “Cause I like both.”

            “Whatever ye want,” Merlin answered with a smile. He didn’t care, just as long as Eggsy never stopped saying his name.

            Eggsy cocked his head to the side, tongue sticking out thoughtfully. After a moment, he decided, “Y’re my Merlin.”

            Merlin’s heart nearly burst from his chest. He kissed the top of Eggsy’s head and hummed an agreement.

            The only time Eggsy called Merlin by his Christian name was when they were alone and he was buried balls deep in Merlin. He’d press his lips against Merlin’s ear and groaned, “Eoin,” and Merlin would come with a broken cry.

* * * *

            A week after, Merlin met Eggsy for lunch. They decided to go to a little bakery a few blocks from Kingsman Tower. They split a chef’s salad and each had a bowl of soup, while Eggsy caught Merlin up on the gossip around the fire station.

            “Charlie, the berk, didn’t realize the bloke was hitting on him,” Eggsy said with a derisive snort. “Wasn’t till after he inadvertently shot the guy down—think his name was Hugo—and he’d left with his lil sis, that me and Rox told Charlie the guy was after a date. Never seen the color drain so fast from Charlie’s face. He sprinted right out of the garage.”

            “Did he get the date?” Merlin asked as he stabbed a fork into a bed of vinaigrette drenched lettuce. Eggsy always put too much dressing on.

            “Oh yeah, never seen Charlie Hesketh apologize so profusely before. Doubt I’ll ever see it again.” Eggsy chuckled. “Bastard was stumbling over his words so much that he told Hugo he had big teeth.”

            “He what?”

            “Yep, insulted his smile he did, then realized what he said and blanched. I got second hand embarrassment from it. Course, Hugo just laughed. Think he realized Charlie was a bit tongue tied. He handed Charlie his number and told him to call. Think they’re going out this Friday.”

            “Good. He shouldn’t let his uncle dictate his life,” Merlin said.

            “King is a bastard, ain’t he? Came by the station, lording around us as if we were serfs just there to do his bidding. Charlie can be a real dick sometimes, but he don’t deserve that. After he finished talking with King, he went quiet for several days. Usually he carries on like he’s the hottest shit around. Did I tell you what King said to me?”

            “What?” Merlin asked, though he suspected it was some comment on Eggsy’s character. Chester King was a real piece of work, a product from a generation of stiff shirts and bloated privilege.

            “That I should save my money and not waste it on booze, so I have a fall back. Didn’t come out and say for when I get fired, but he insinuated it.” Eggsy scowled, aggressively picking up his soda and taking a sip.

            “Ignore him, love,” Merlin said and finished the last of his soup. “Ye should hear him when he talks to Harry. He still hasn’t forgiven him for choosing Percival and not his daughter.”

            “King tried to hook Harry up with his daughter?”

            “Yes, and he was very meddlesome about it. A lot of underhanded schemes. It was like some kind of soap opera. Percival nearly walked away, but Harry fought very hard to win him back.” Merlin didn’t add that he may have pulled some strings and stepped in. He may have also threatened to reveal a few shady business deals King had taken part of at the time if the tosser didn’t back off.

            “Y’ threatened him, didn’t y’?” Eggsy asked with a grin.

            “I don’t know what ye’re talking about. I’m just a harmless computer programmer,” Merlin said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

            “Of course y’ are, and I never had a run in with the filth neither. We’re propa gentlemen, we are.”

            Merlin met Eggsy’s grin with his own and stood. “Shall we head back? Harry will be angry with me if I miss another meeting. He’s threatening to lock me out of my office.”

            “Can he do that?” Eggsy asked. He brought their trays to the trash.

            “No, but I let him think he can.”

            They left the bakery and started down the street, fingers brushing but not interlocking. Merlin wasn’t stupid. He knew blatantly holding hands with Eggsy would never be something they could have. If it wasn’t because they were men, it was because Eggsy could have been his son. The world would never understand how important Eggsy had become to him.

            “Merlin?” Merlin stopped at the familiar voice. Before he realized what he’d done, he’d grabbed Eggsy’s hand and squeezed. The feel of calloused fingers returning the gesture helped ease the sudden flare of anxiety that gripped his chest and compressed his lungs.

            Merlin turned, not letting go of Eggsy, and looked at Ronan McAllister with a forced smiled. It had been over three years since he’d seen him, and while a petty part of Merlin had hoped he hadn’t aged well, he wasn’t surprised to see him handsome as ever. He was a bit grayer at his temples then Merlin recalled, but otherwise Ronan hadn’t changed. He still looked impeccable in a gray bespoke suit.

            “Ronan,” Merlin greeted, proud that his voice was unwavering. “How are ye?”

            “Good,” Ronan said, shifting his briefcase into his other hand and holding out his right. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

            Merlin didn’t miss the way Ronan’s blue eyes shifted to his and Eggsy’s entwined fingers. There had been a time when Merlin had lived for Ronan’s eyes—when their beauty had surpassed the sky. Now all he saw were the yesterdays and tomorrows Ronan had burned in his haste to escape Merlin.

            “I’m good,” Merlin said. He didn’t shake Ronan’s hand.

            Ronan dropped his hand, his smile going tight-lipped, and commented flippantly, “I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

            “Not his nephew, bruv,” Eggsy answered before Merlin could. “Boyfriend.”

Eggsy was grinning, but Merlin saw the hard edge in his eyes. He’d told Eggsy about Ronan, about their colored and difficult past. Eggsy had promptly told Merlin Ronan was a good for nothing bastard and he was better off without him.

            “Apologies,” Ronan said tersely.

            “This is Eggsy,” Merlin said. He needed to defuse the situation before it spiraled out of control. “Eggsy, this is Ronan McAllister. He’s a lawyer for Walhelm and Bowen.”

            “Actually, it’s Walhelm, Bowen, and McAllister now,” Ronan corrected with a smug smile.

            “Ye made partner?” Merlin wasn’t surprised. Ronan was a cut throat lawyer. “Congratulations.”

            Ronan brushed off invisible dust from his jacket sleeve. “It was a matter of time.” He glanced over Eggsy, and Merlin didn’t like the way Ronan’s gaze hovered. Something possessive seized Merlin and maneuvered himself so he stood slightly in front of Eggsy. Ronan didn’t miss the gesture and smirked. “I never pegged you for someone that would go through a crisis.”

            Merlin flinched. Was that what it looked like? That he was suffering from some kind of mid-life crisis and Eggsy was the younger model? Was he no better than the men who left their wives for a girl twenty years his younger?

            “The fuck y’ say, bruv?” Eggsy snapped, stepping around Merlin to stand beside him, his hand never leaving Merlin’s.

            Ronan sneered briefly, but then smoothed his features out, satisfaction sparking in his eyes. “I see your taste has slipped.”

            “Bruv y’ best start walking, before I introduce y’r face to the concrete,” Eggsy warned. Merlin could feel the vibrations of anger coming off of him.

            “It’s fine Eggsy,” Merlin said, swallowing around a hard slab of emotion lodged in his throat.

            Eggsy looked at Merlin, scandalized. “Merlin?”

            Merlin didn’t look away from Ronan, who looked so sure of himself, as he was positive he’d won—what he won, Merlin didn’t know.

            “Some men will never be happy unless they’re climbing on the backs of others. It made ye a good lawyer Ronan, but it made ye a shit boyfriend.” Merlin turned around. “Come on Eggsy.”

            Against his better judgement, Merlin added over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d contact yer tailor Ronan. See if he can let yer jacket out a bit around the waist.”

            They left before Ronan could respond. Eggsy was fuming the entire way back to the office. He followed Merlin to his office, still muttering under his breath about tossers and sticks up arses. Merlin couldn’t keep track of what he was saying, but he was too caught up in his own head to really pay attention.

            Once the door to Merlin’s office was closed, Eggsy hissed, “He’s a piece of shit, he is.”

            “It’s fine, Eggsy,” Merlin said, exhausted. He collapsed in his chair, ready for a nap.

            “No it ain’t Merlin. He had no right to talk to y’ like that. Why couldn’t he just keep walking? Why’d he have to stop us?”

            “Because that’s Ronan. He gets satisfaction in tearing others down.”

            “I don’t know wot y’ saw in him,” Eggsy huffed, shoulders tensed. He paced back and forth, a wild cat ready to lunge.

            “I use to think it was nice,” Merlin said, “And perhaps I was a bit blinded by his good looks.”

            Eggsy snorted. “Weren’t that good looking.”

            “Eggsy, it’s over.” Merlin said, though it didn’t feel like it was over. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan’s claim—was this a mid-life crisis? Perhaps Merlin was just grasping at a final attempt not to be alone. It was so painfully obvious that he and Eggsy were different. Eggsy was too much salad dressing and Merlin was too little. Eggsy was young and vibrant, and Merlin was old and dull.

            “Stop it,” Eggsy ordered, cutting through Merlin’s melancholy with the precision of a well-trained surgeon. “I know wot yer thinking and just stop it.”

            He came around Merlin’s desk and settled into his lap, both knees planted on either side of his thighs. He wound his hands through is lapels and tugged Merlin forward into a kiss. Merlin didn’t fight it—he never could fight Eggsy. He melted into the touch, opening his mouth to Eggsy as easily as he opened his heart and soul.

            “This ain’t some kind of crisis,” Eggsy murmured when they parted. “This is real, me and y’. And no one is going to change that. Y’ hear me?”

            Merlin met Eggsy’s gaze, and when he didn’t answer right away, Eggsy pressed, “Y’ hear me?”

            Eggsy hadn’t once let go of his hand while they stood on the sidewalk. He’d held on to Merlin, stood beside him, ready to fight with and for Merlin.

            “Yeah,” Merlin whispered with a small smile.

            Eggsy kissed his forehead. “Idiot. Now go to y’r meeting. Y’ coming over tonight, right?”

            Merlin hummed a yes as Eggsy climbed off his lap. He missed the warmth already.

            “Good, then I’ll see y’ tonight. Got a real special prize for y’.” Eggsy winked, not elaborating on what that surprise was.

            When Merlin arrived at his apartment later that evening, he was gifted with a shiny new prostate massager. Merlin didn’t think he’d ever come so many times in his life.

* * * *

            Merlin met Eggsy’s family two weeks later. He brought a bottle of Glenfiddich for Eggsy’s father, a bouquet of yellow roses for his mother, and wee little stuffed rabbit in a daisy printed dress for his sister. Eggsy thought it was amusing when Merlin realized he was older than his parents by a good five years.

            After a dinner of pot roast, Merlin retired to the living room where Lee opens the bottle of whiskey Merlin brought. Daisy found her way into his lap, where she remained until Michelle whisked her off to bed. Before they leave, Michelle gave Merlin a hug and told him to not be a stranger.

            Merlin goes home with Eggsy that night and rides him until his bones turn to rubber. He stays awake long after Eggsy, watching the way his chest rises and falls as he gently snores.

            He still can’t believe that its real, that Eggsy isn’t some figment of his imagination—a concoction of desperation and too many pints of Guinness.

The realization of how madly in love with Eggsy he is doesn’t happen abruptly or in a cinematic discovery. He isn’t suddenly enlightened to the fact that without Eggsy his life is incomplete. If Eggsy walked out, Merlin would be devastated, but he knew he’d survive. He’d somehow pick himself up and move on. He’d learned in his fifty years that love, despite what the movies said, wasn’t eternal, and it sure as hell wasn’t the be all, end all.

But Merlin wanted to make this last. He wanted to wake up every morning and see Eggsy. He wanted the bad moments, and the good moments. He didn’t want a star struck romance, which burned so hot it was blinding, but went out as suddenly as it started. He wanted their steady love, where the hours in the day weren’t so meaningless because Eggsy was in them. 

He slouched down around Eggsy, arm slung over his waist, and whispered into his hair, “I love ye.”

            “I love y’ too,” Eggsy murmured with a yawn.

            Merlin froze, heart stilling in his chest. “I thought ye were asleep.”

            Eggsy hummed and rolled over, snuggling against Merlin’s chest. “I know. Now go to sleep, babe. Y’ have work in the morning.”

            The endearment restarted Merlin’s heart. He chuckled, closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Eggsy.”

            “Goodnight, Merlin.”

* * * *

            It started to snow when Merlin and Eggsy left Harry’s house. Merlin’s face was warm from the wine. He didn’t usually drink so much when they were out, but Harry had been sure to keep the Pinot Noir flowing, and the laughter was just as equally liberal. Merlin tugged his scarf a bit higher to guard his mouth and stumbled down the step.

            Eggsy looped his arms around Merlin’s waist with a laugh. “Easy, big guy. I don’t need y’ falling and breaking a hip.”

            Merlin snorted derisively. “I’m not _that_ old.”

            “No, but it’s slippery,” Eggsy countered with a grin. His cheeks were flushed, and when he breathed, delicate white clouds floated in front of his face. “Come on, let’s get y’ home.”

            “Dinnae want to go home,” Merlin stated, leaning into Eggsy. “Ye aren’t there.”

He was vaguely aware of Eggsy guiding him down the street. The world was a luminous haze, fuzzy around the edges as if a frosted window had been placed in front of him.

“I can stay the night,” Eggsy said.

“And ye leave in the morning,” Merlin countered.

He hadn’t told Eggsy how he hated the emptiness of his home, how when Eggsy wasn’t around Merlin realized how alone he was. The silence filled the halls, amplifying the lack of laughter and warmth that Eggsy brought to his life.

They’d been dating for six months, with Merlin spending as much time at Eggsy’s apartment as Eggsy spent at his. But in the end, one of them always left, always returned home alone. And Merlin hated it. Hated coming home to nothing but creaking floorboards and white walls.

“I can stay the weekend,” Eggsy laughed, not realizing the torrent of emotions stirring up in Merlin.

In the morning, Merlin would blame the spirits for his loose tongue, but for now he didn’t care about keeping reserved. “And then ye leave again.”

Eggsy paused, arm still draped around Merlin, and looked up at him. “Wot are y’ saying, Merlin?” Eggsy asked, trepidation darkening his eyes.

No, that wasn’t good. Merlin wasn’t trying to distress Eggsy. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against Eggsy’s, and breathed him in. Eggsy always wore the same cologne, a spicy musk that never failed to turn Merlin’s insides into a quivering mess.

“Move in with me,” Merlin whispered, gripping Eggsy’s shoulders tightly, his suit wrinkling beneath his fingers.

Eggsy’s eyes widened. “Wot?” He leaned back, laughing. “Y’re drunk, y’ berk.”

Merlin shook his head. “I’m not—” That was a lie. “Okay, I _am_ , but I still mean it.”

“Merlin—”

“Ye spend most of yer time at my apartment, don’t ye?”

“Well yes, but innit a bit early for that?” Eggsy asked. Merlin swayed, not sure if the nausea that suddenly rose up was from the alcohol or the fact that Eggsy was obviously against the idea.

“Never mind,” Merlin blurted out, forcing a chuckle. He waved Eggsy off. “Ignore me, drunk old man.”

He started stumbling down the sidewalk. The cold bled through his jacket, penetrating through layers of cotton and bone, striking with frigid knives at his heart.

“Merlin, wait,” Eggsy called.

Merlin paused, shoulders stiff. He needed to get home, wash his face and clear his head.

Eggsy grabbed his hand, and Merlin looked back. “Do y’ mean it?” Eggsy asked, studying Merlin. “Y’ ain’t just saying it, then going to change y’r mind in the morning when the booze clear?”

Merlin shook his head, heart skipping a beat. “No, never. I’d never regret anything with ye.”

Eggsy smiled, and Merlin’s knees almost gave out. He looked more radiant than the Christmas star. Eggsy tugged Merlin down into a kiss, whispering against his lips, “Than let’s do it.”

It was the best Christmas gift Merlin could have gotten. He wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s waist and hauled him close.

When they got back to Merlin’s apartment that night, Eggsy made love to him, slow and gentle. Merlin had never been a religious man, but that night, lying beneath Eggsy, he swore he found God. When Eggsy finished taking him apart and lovingly putting him back together, Merlin curled around him and fell asleep counting Eggsy’s heartbeats.


	5. Times are Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness can't last forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> self-betaed, sorry for any mistakes!

            Eggsy put the box down with a grunt. “That’s the last one,” he announced, straightening with one hand on his back. “I think I got my things along the drive here.”

            Merlin paused in unpacking the box of books Eggsy had brought in. “I don’t think that’s physically possible,” he said with a chuckle, placing a worn copy of _Great Expectations_ on the nearby end table. “But, perhaps after ye help me unpack, I’ll consider giving ye a massage.”

            “Oh y’ will, will y’?” Eggsy set his hands on his hips. “I think y’ should definitely give me one, seeing as how I did all this heavy lifting.”

            “Ye’re young and spry, I’m old and feeble,” Merlin said, earning a scoff from Eggsy.

            “Old and feeble my arse,” Eggsy laughed. “I’ve seen y’ bench press three hundred pounds.”

            Merlin pulled out another handful of books. “Well, yer arse looks so much better going up and down the stairs.”

            Eggsy arched a brow. “Y’ dirty leech, y’ just want to ogle my supple arse!”

            Merlin set the books down, grinning from ear to ear. The muscles in Eggsy’s thighs stiffened and his shoulders rolled back as an electrical charge crackled in the air. Merlin scanned the room, making a quick assessment of the furniture, before taking a small step back. “Now lad, ye wouldn’t be thinking about doing anything hasty, would ye?”

            “Oh, I don’t know what y’re talking about,” Eggsy purred innocently.

            They reacted simultaneously. Merlin sprinted right as Eggsy shot around the boxes, hands out to grab Merlin.

            Eggsy chased him down the hall, giving a playful bellow. Merlin laughed. He’d never been this exalted before; he was sixteen again, careless and free, not worried about anything but that moment.

            Eggsy caught him in the bed room, looping his arms around Merlin’s waist and hauling him onto the bed with a mighty roar. Merlin barely had a chance to catch his breath before Eggsy’s fingers were on him, finding every nook and cranny to tickle.

            “Ah!” Merlin laughed, trying to squirm out from under Eggsy, who straddled his waist.

            “This is wot y’ get y’ pervy ol’ man!” Eggsy teased, rucking up Merlin’s sweater and tickling his ribcage. His fingers danced under Merlin’s arms, and Merlin bucked, trying to upheave Eggsy. “Y’ gotta beg for mercy!”

            “Never!” Merlin shouted between peals of laughter. Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes.

            Merlin managed to jam his arms between Eggsy’s legs and used his surprise to haul him up, slipping out from under him with a gasping pant.

            “Think y’re smart do y’?” Eggsy grinned, face flushed. Merlin drew in a gulp of air, trying to steady his thundering heart. Eggsy braced himself on the bed.

            “Don’t ye dare—ye know what they say, what comes around, goes around.”

            “I’ll give y’ a five second head start.”

            Merlin didn’t waste any time. He was out the door and heading for the living room. Eggsy caught him easily—Merlin didn’t fight too hard—and had him back on the floor in a matter of seconds. They ended up rutting against one another shamelessly, desperate as teenagers to get off.

            Eggsy pressed his mouth against Merlin’s ear as he worked their pants open and took both of their cocks in his large hand. “Fucking hell Merlin, y’ make me so hot,” Eggsy groaned. “Wanna spend the rest of my life like this.”

            When Eggsy said shit like that, he turned Merlin’s insides into liquid. This was all he wanted, all he’d ever want.

            Merlin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. All he could manage to do was moan as Eggsy squeezed his aching cock, using his thumb to smear the precum down their shafts. Syrupy warmth pooled in his belly and spread through his veins.

            “Going to make love to y’ tonight,” Eggsy continued, nipping at the shell of Merlin’s ear. “Going to take my time opening y’ up, getting y’ ready for me. Want to watch y’ fall apart.”

            Merlin’s hole ached to be filled. Every whisper from Eggsy only tightened the coiling in his gut. He was so close, so fucking close.

            “I’ll take y’ with my mouth first. Kiss every inch of y’r body.” Eggsy humped against Merlin, picking up the pace of his hand. “Taste how sweet y’r hole is.”

            “E-eggsy,” Merlin whined. He hooked one leg around Eggsy’s waist, fucking into his hand.

            “Y’ want that? Want me to eat y’ out?” Eggsy asked, timber a low sultry rumble that vibrated through Merlin’s chest. “Ask me nicely. I want to hear y’ beg for it”

            Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. God he was so close.

            Eggsy slowed his hand, squeezing at Merlin’s base to stave off his completion. Merlin whined.

            “Let me hear it,” Eggsy coaxed as he sucked bruises along Merlin’s jaw.

            “Fuck,” Merlin cursed. “Fucking bastard, ye better let me come.”

            Eggsy chuckled. “Not quite right.” He squeezed, and Merlin, to his embarrassment, wailed. A blinding bolt of pleasure rocketed through him. “Try again.”

            “Please,” Merlin gasped. “Fuck, please Eggsy. Fucking fuck, just let me come.”

            “How?” Eggsy hummed.

            Merlin’s mind wasn’t working. “Fuck, I don’t know,” Merlin groaned, trying to process the single word question. “Just—fuck—want ye. Want ye so bad.”

            “Roll over,” Eggsy ordered, releasing Merlin.

            Merlin scrambled to turn around as soon as Eggsy eased off him. Eggsy tugged his pants the rest of the way down and moaned. “Christ, look at y’.”

            Merlin pressed his cheek against the soft carpet, arse in the air. “Come on,” Merlin pleaded, his balls heavy and cock aching.

            “So impatient,” Eggsy chuckled. He bit Merlin’s arse cheek, earning a yelp. “Remind me to work on that.”

            Merlin grunted. His thighs trembled with anticipation. Eggsy planted both hands on Merlin’s arse cheeks and spread him wide open. “Lovely,” Eggsy breathed, his lips ghosting over Merlin’s taint. Merlin closed his eyes, a shuddering whine escaping as Eggsy lapped a stripe across his hole.

            “Think y’ can come just like this? With my tongue?” Eggsy asked huskily.

            Merlin couldn’t articulate anything. His tongue had turned to stone in his mouth and all he could do was moan wantonly. It seemed a good enough answer to Eggsy, because he leaned down and sucked Merlin’s hole, tongue tracing the rim. Merlin shouted; he was pretty sure the neighbors could hear, but he didn’t care.

            Eggsy reduced him to a quivering sticky mess. He pulled Merlin apart one sparking nerve at a time. He drifted down to lave Merlin’s balls with his tongue, sucking on his perineum. Merlin’s cock dribbled between his legs, but he didn’t reach for it. He rutted against the air, rocking back into Eggsy’s mouth. When Eggsy finally stabbed a tongue inside him, his vision whited out and he came.

Eggsy shifted behind him, and Merlin was vaguely aware of a slapping sound. A few moments later Eggsy stiffened with a low groan. A sticky wetness splattered across Merlin’s lower back and arse cheeks.

            Merlin collapsed to the floor panting. Eggsy laid down beside. After a few minutes, Merlin turned his head to face Eggsy and said, “We still need to unpack.”

            Eggsy chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Yes, dear.”

            Oh, Merlin liked the sound of that.

* * * *

            It didn’t take long for Merlin and Eggsy to find a routine—one had already existed, and it had only been building from there. They were both early risers, but on the days that Eggsy could sleep in, he did. Merlin on the other hand always got up precisely at five minutes until five, before the alarm went off.

            Mornings consisted of mostly shuffling about blindly until his tea kicked in. Eggsy usually got up before Merlin left, even for a few short minutes, to kiss him goodbye. It was a nice concession that Merlin knew wouldn’t last—eventually they’d grow out of the honeymoon phase and Eggsy would stay hunkered beneath the mound of blankets as Merlin went to work, but until then Merlin planned on enjoying the drowsy kisses and gropes by the front door.

            Two months had passed since Eggsy moved in and Merlin realized that in only a few short months they’d be celebrating their one year anniversary. He still couldn’t believe that a blind date could have led to this kind of happiness. If Merlin had flaked on Harry and not gone on the date like he originally planned, where would he be now? Still alone, accepting what Ronan said about him being destined to live the life of a hermit.

            _Funny how one small decision can make big changes._

Merlin finished booking the hotel reservations. He planned on taking Eggsy on a nice romantic getaway for their one year. Somewhere warm and tropical, where they could stretch out on soft white sands and listen to the surf. And Merlin could enjoy the vision of Eggsy in the new speedo he may have just bought for him.

            An alert in the corner of his computer notified him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes. He closed the little box and returned to the paperwork Harry had sent him to review. There were still five hours left in the day until he could go home, and he was counting down every second. Who would have thought that one day he couldn’t wait to go home? He used to be the last to leave the office, and now he was out the door before Harry.

            Percival said it was charming.

            Harry said it was bloody annoying (with a good natured smile), but that was just because he had to stay later some nights now.

            Merlin didn’t realize fifteen minutes had passed until his secretary knocked on his door to alert him. He gathered his files and headed to the boardroom. Merlin checked to make sure his phone was on silence and took a seat at the far end of the long mahogany table.

            It was nearly time to roll out the new system Merlin had designed, but there were still some issues with backers. Merlin listened with a critical ear as Harry started to talk, jotting down notes in his tablet. He didn’t say anything; he rarely did, unless it was to explain some facet of the system or relay impertinent information.

            Merlin’s phone vibrated on the table, a sharp whizzing sound that cut Harry off. Merlin grabbed his phone and hit the side button to stop it. “Sorry,” he grumbled and slipped his phone in his pocket.

            Harry sniffed and went back to talking. The conversation rolled over to one of the board members—Armitage, Merlin thought that was his name, but he wasn’t positive.

            Vibrations tickled Merlin’s thigh. He fished out his phone and checked to see who was calling under the table. He didn’t recognize the number, so he sent it to voicemail. He didn’t even have his phone back in his pocket before it started to go off again, this time with Roxy’s name flashing on the screen.

            “Perhaps you should get that,” Harry stated briskly with a pointed glare.

            “It’s not like ye haven’t had interruptions before,” Merlin said with a huff, “But if ye’ll excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I do have to take this.”

            He waited until he got to his office before he hit answer—at this point Roxy had already hung up and called back. The rate at which he was receiving calls was more than disconcerting, and when Merlin hit talk, his heart was thumping in his throat.

            “Roxy, what’s going on? I’m in a board meeting,” Merlin said, trying to control his rebelling pulse.

            “It’s Eggsy,” Roxy croaked.

            Merlin grabbed onto his desk, his knees nearly buckling. He swallowed thickly and asked with a soft, but steady tone, “What about him?”

            “We’re at Chelsea’s Hospital,” She said. There was a crack and Merlin didn’t know if it was the lilt in Roxy’s voice or his heart.

            He wanted to demand what happened, but he swallowed down the questions. “I’m on my way,” he said. His fingers cramped from how hard he gripped his desk, but it was the only thing keeping him standing at the moment.


	6. Hurt the Ones We Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words can hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-betaed.
> 
> Vague doctor shit, because reasons. I did talk with a fireman though about some of this shit, so I kinda know what I'm talking about??? XD Not really. /flail

Merlin hung up before Roxy could say anything else. His body clicked into autopilot and he was out of his office. He was vaguely aware of bursting through the door to the stairwell, of shoving past people, of voices and car horns, and the blur of lights as he sped down the street.

            He didn’t know if time was speeding forward or slowing down. He was caught in a realm where it didn’t seem to exist, where everything moved as he stood still, and when he looked up he was suddenly in front of the hospital.

            Merlin clung to a single thought: _he’s okay, he’s going to be fine._

He wasn’t prepared for the aftermath if Eggsy wasn’t—he’d never be prepared. How could he? How could he ever be ready to say goodbye? It was supposed to be him. He would be the first, because he couldn’t survive being the last.

            That was the problem with love. He lost a part of himself the day he fell in love with Eggsy, and now if Eggsy ever left, Merlin would have to let that part go. And sure, Merlin was prepared to move on if Eggsy decided to walk out—but like this? When every possibility they had was ripped from them violently? He’d never be ready.

            Merlin raced into the hospital, stopping only to ask which room Eggsy was being kept in. The stringent medicinal scent burned Merlin’s nose as he stood there, foot tapping, and waited for the nurse to look up the room Eggsy was being kept in.

            _Please let it be minor._

“Mr. Unwin is in ICU right now,” The brunette nurse said. She supplied the room number, and Merlin didn’t wait to hear anything else. He was vaguely aware of the sound of heartrate monitors and shoes slapping against the linoleum.

            Every memory slid past Merlin. Walking ghosts, brushing his shoulders and reaching for his hands. Their first kiss. The first time they fucked. The first time they made love. Their first fight. Their second fight.

            That time Eggsy almost walked away because Merlin couldn’t get his head out of his arse.

            Taking Daisy to the zoo.

            Eggsy sobbing into Merlin’ shoulder when one of his comrades was killed in a backdraft.

            All of their yesterdays and all of their tomorrows guided him down the hall.

Someone yelled for him to slow down, but he didn’t stop until he was standing in front of Eggsy’s room.

            He burst into the room, startling Roxy, who turned sharply in her seat next to Eggsy. “Merlin,” she gasped, eyes moist and glossy. She let go of Eggsy’s hand and stood.

            Merlin’s gaze latched onto Eggsy, who was stretched out in the hospital bed. Breathing tubes were hooked to his nostrils and wires seemed to come out of everywhere, connected to one machine or another, counting breaths and heartbeats, cataloging each rhythm to pronounce him alive. He looked wrong. So _wrong_.

            His leg was held up by a suspension unit and there were several bandages wrapped around his head.

            “What happened?” Merlin demanded, never tearing his eyes away from Eggsy. His hands twitched at his side, desperate to run his fingers through Eggsy’s hair, to cradle his head close. Every time the heartrate monitor blipped, Merlin felt another crack appear in his composure.

            Roxy swiped her fingers across her eyes. “We got the call for this house, an old woman. Eggsy went in to retrieve her dog, and the floor was weak. It collapsed and he fell through.”

            Of course it was a fucking dog. Merlin would have laughed if he wasn’t so sure he’d break from it.

            The doctor knocked at the door before entering. She glanced between Merlin and Roxy, before asking, “Are you Mr. Reid?”

            “Aye,” Merlin said.

            “I’m Dr. Patel,” she announced, holding her hand out.

            Merlin shook her hand more out of reflex than sense of propriety. “How is he doctor?”

            “He sustained several serious injuries from the fall. His helmet had come off and when he fell he hit his head. It doesn’t seem that there’s any swelling, but we’ll be monitoring it over night to make sure nothing develops. He broke his leg in two places. We went in and inserted a metal bar. He also inhaled quite a bit of smoke.”

            Merlin’s stomach grew heavy and leaden as he listened to the list grow. He reached out and settled his hand on Eggsy’s uninjured leg.

            “We’ll keep him a few days to monitor him, but as long as no infections or swelling develop, he should be able to make a full recovery. He’ll need to do physical therapy after his cast comes off.”

            Merlin let out a shuddering breath and whispered, “Thank ye.”

            Dr. Patel nodded, offering a small smile. She doubled checked a few of Eggsy’s vitals before excusing herself.

            “I’m going to get a coffee and call Chief,” Roxy said, and Merlin was grateful for the alone time.

            He drew Roxy’s chair back to the bed and took a seat next to Eggsy. He gathered Eggsy’s hand in his own and kissed his scraped knuckles, nudging some of the wires and tubes out of the way.

            “Christ, love,” Merlin whispered. He pressed Eggsy’s hand against his forehead. “When Roxy said ye were in the hospital…”

            He didn’t finish. He couldn’t.

            “I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’ll never be ready,” Merlin croaked. “So ye can’t fucking go before me. It has to be me first, ye hear me?”

            The only thing that had been keeping Merlin held together had been the pressure of the end, and now that it was lifted off his shoulders, he shattered. He let out ragged breath. His vision blurred as he kissed Eggsy’s palms and wrist.

            “Don’t go, don’t ever go,” Merlin choked. “God, please don’t go.”

            Fingers slid down his scalp. He jerked his head up and looked into dull green eyes. Eggsy smiled at him, and while it wasn’t as vibrant as his usual carefree grin, Merlin had never seen anything more beautiful.

            “Who said anything about going?” Eggsy asked, voice raspy. Merlin didn’t know if he wanted to sob or laugh, so he did both. Eggsy swiped his thumb across Merlin’s cheek. “Hey, why y’ crying? Not over me, I hope.”

            “It’s nothing,” Merlin said, shaking his head.

            “Hmm,” Eggsy hummed. “Give us a kiss?”

            Merlin leaned forward, mindful of Eggsy’s injuries, and pressed his lips to Eggsy’s chapped ones. Eggsy sighed, settling his hand on the back of Merlin’s neck, and the weight of his hand righted everything in Merlin’s world.

            “I’ll never leave y’,” Eggsy promised.

            And they both knew it was a promise he couldn’t keep, but neither said anything.

* * * *

            Eggsy’s recovery was a slow process. After a day, he was able to go home from the hospital, but it was another eight weeks in a cast. It took some adjustments to work around his injured leg. Merlin rearranged the living room to accommodate the cast and crutches Eggsy would rely on.     Merlin wanted to say that things went back to normal, and for the first two weeks Eggsy kept up a brave front, but by week three it was obvious the cast was getting to him.

            “Fuck,” Eggsy shouted when he bumped into the end table with his crutches. A vase fell to the floor and shattered. He’d been trying to maneuver through the narrow space of the living room but couldn’t seem to get his balance right. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

            “It’s fine,” Merlin said, appearing in the doorway as soon as he heard the shout. He fetched a dust pan and broom from the hall closet and went to clean the mess.

            Eggsy scowled down at the shattered porcelain. “No it ain’t. I know y’, that thing probably cost a fortune.”

            “It’s a vase,” Merlin said and swept up the larger shards. “Mind yer step, I don’t want ye getting glass in yer feet.”

            “I’ll buy y’ a new one,” Eggsy insisted.

            “It’s fine Eggsy, really,” Merlin said. He didn’t care about the damn vase, it was just a decoration.

            “No, I want to,” Eggsy insisted, standing stubbornly off to the side. He squeezed the grips of his crutches. “Where can I get it?”

            “Ye can’t,” Merlin said with a sigh. He didn’t want to fight. “It was a gift from a one of Kingsman’s Chinese partners.”

            “Fuck,” Eggsy said again, jerking his crutches around as he turned to hobble in the other direction. “Well—”

            “Eggsy,” Merlin cut him off. “It’s nothing, okay? Just a trinket. Now, what were ye trying to do? Did ye need something?”

            Eggsy studied Merlin’s face, tension wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “No,” Eggsy finally said and flopped down onto the couch. “I’m fine.”

            Merlin stood there for a few more seconds, before shaking his head and returning to the kitchen. He dumped the debris in the trash, then fetched the vacuum to go over the spot. Neither brought up the vase again.

* * * *

            After eight weeks the cast came off. To Eggsy’s horror, his leg had atrophied and was thin and feeble. It would be weeks of physio and exercises before he gained his strength back in the limb. The doctor warned that even after all of that work, he may never regain his full strength in his leg again, and there would be limitations to what he could do.

            Merlin went with Eggsy to PT when he could, but on the days he had inescapable meetings, Roxy or Percival went with him. Percival offered guidance in rebuilding Eggsy’s strength. Having suffered from a similar injury himself, he was able to supply a few words of wisdom in coping with the sudden stagnation.

            It was painfully obvious that Eggsy hated sitting at home. The usual luster in his eyes had dulled over the weeks and his temper grew progressively shorter, until there were stretches of days when neither could even speak to each other without hissing.

            Merlin hated that week. He hated the fear that had sat in his throat. He hated that when he looked at Eggsy, he knew there was nothing he could do to make it better, and any time he tried it only seemed to make it worse.

             He tried to understand. Eggsy was a social person, he needed to be out in the world. He fed off of working and helping. He wasn’t like Merlin, who could stay inside for days on end, completely content by himself.

            Merlin stayed longer at work, and when he wasn’t at work, he hid in his office, focusing on the upcoming launch of Project Rainmaker, which had taken the official mantle of Lancelot.

            The launch party for Lancelot was in a week and Merlin wasn’t looking forward to the affair. Harry insisted he attend, especially since Lancelot was his brainchild, but Merlin wasn’t much for galas or parties. He knew there’d be no escaping it, but at least he’d have Eggsy there.

            Merlin struggled with his keys and an armful of takeout bags. After a bit of jangling, he managed to unlock the door and shove it open. “Eggsy?” Merlin called.

            He found him in the living room, still dressed in the track bottoms he’d been wearing for the last two days. “Lad, I think it’s time to lay those things to rest,” Merlin said. “Why don’t ye hop in the shower and throw them in the bin? I’ll wash them later.”

            Eggsy met his eyes, and Merlin wanted to pretend that Eggsy looked happy to see him, but all that he found was cold exhaustion and indifference. Merlin offered a smile and held up the Chinese. “I brought dinner. Grabbed yer favorite. Go and get washed, then we can eat.”

            “Fine,” Eggsy said with a heaving sigh. He shoved to his feet. It was nice to see him getting around without the aid of crutches or a bulky cast weighing him down, but there was still a slight limp to his gait. His leg had begun to thicken as he worked on strength training, but it was obvious there was still some sensitivity.

            Eggsy vanished to the bathroom and Merlin went to set the bags down. He was setting out plates on the table when Eggsy returned, freshly scrubbed and dressed in a new pair of sweat pants and t-shirt. Merlin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Eggsy in anything but cotton bottoms.

            “How was yer day?” Merlin asked as he pulled out the plastic containers of Chow Mein and beef and broccoli.

            “How do y’ think? Fucking rubbish on the telly.” Eggsy grumbled.

            “How’d PT go?” Merlin pressed. “Yer appointments are almost up, yeah?”

            “Fine. Yeah. Couple more. Therapist says I should be able to return in three weeks. I got to call Chief and talk to him about taking the exam,” Eggsy said, and Merlin would have thought Eggsy would’ve been happy for the chance to get to work.

            “That’s good, isn’t it lad?”

            “Depends on what Chief says,” Eggsy said, the first real thread of anxiety bleeding into his voice. “Y’ heard the doctor after the cast came off. I’ve been working hard, but…”

            “Ye’ll be able to get back to work,” Merlin assured him, offering a hopeful smile.

            “Maybe,” Eggsy said, and Merlin sensed a note finality to the world. He didn’t press.

            Merlin took a seat. Steam rose up from the beef and broccoli, the savory scent making Merlin’s stomach growl. He’d missed lunch again in order to get work done.

            “Kingsman is hosting a launch party in a week,” Merlin announced. He took a bite of food, never breaking eye contact with Eggsy.

            “Oh? Y’ going?” Eggsy asked.

            “Harry has informed me I am,” Merlin teased.

            “Y’ don’t want to go, don’t go.”

            “It’s not a matter of wanting, but a responsibility to,” Merlin said. “Though, I was thinking since your PT has gone well, and we hadn’t been out in a while, that perhaps it would be a good change of scenery. It might be nice to go out before ye return to work. Consider it a celebration.”

            Eggsy looked contemplatively at his dish, poking at a pile of sauced covered noodles. After a pause, which Merlin filled by eating away his anxieties, Eggsy asked, “Going to have to wear a tux, ain’t I?”

            “I’m afraid so,” Merlin said, relief flooding through him. He matched Eggsy’s timid smile with his own, wishing the air wasn’t so brittle between them.

            “Well, done worse,” Eggsy said. He pointed his chopsticks at Merlin. “Y’ll owe me though.”

            “I’m sure I can figure out some way to repay ye,” Merlin said with a chuckle.

* * * *

            Merlin thought things were looking up, especially after Eggsy agreed to attend the party. But the following Monday, the world seemed to take a swan dive into hell. Merlin wasn’t sure when or how the change happened, especially when the morning had started off so wonderfully. Eggsy had woken him with a sleepy blow job and a snog in the shower. He had physio that afternoon and planned on calling Chief Kinnock in the morning to discuss getting re-certified.

            When Merlin returned home, Eggsy wasn’t there; there was a message from the physical therapist’s office, though, inquiring about Eggsy’s missed appointment and when he’d like to reschedule.

            Merlin tried calling Eggsy, but his calls were sent straight to voice mail. After three tries, he rung up Roxy, who said she hadn’t heard from Eggsy in days and was right pissed that he hadn’t called her back.

            Merlin didn’t have Jamal’s or Ryan’s numbers, so his only options were to search all of London for his wayward boyfriend, or sit and wait. As much as it irked Merlin, he decided to save himself the blisters and wait.

            He fixed a sandwich for dinner and ate in his office while he worked. He fell asleep at his desk a little after eleven. He was woken up by keys jingling at the front door. Merlin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wiped away the drool that gathered at the corner of his mouth. He checked the clock—a quarter past one.

            Merlin shoved to his feet, still groggy from being jolted awake, and walked into the living room. Eggsy staggered through the front door, clothes rumpled and reeking of beer and cigarettes.

            “Where the fuck were ye?” Merlin asked, though it was obvious Eggsy had popped down to the pub.

            Eggsy closed the door and slumped against it, squinting at Merlin. “Did y’ wait up for me?”

            “I didn’t know where ye were, lad. Ye didn’t answer yer phone. Ye had me worried.” Merlin kept his tone level, knowing one of them would have to keep their heads on straight, and Eggsy wasn’t much in a state to do that.

            “I’m not a kid, y’ don’t need to fucking wait up for me,” Eggsy said and shoved off the door. He staggered two steps, paused, and swayed. He was beyond drunk, he was fucking pissed.

            Merlin rolled his eyes and reached for him. “Come on, let’s get ye in the shower and bed. We can talk in the morning.”

            Eggsy shoved his hands off. “I’m fine, I don’t need y’r help.”

            Merlin arched a brow, unamused. “Really? Because it doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.”

            “Fuck y’,” Eggsy snapped. “Don’t act like y’re better than me.”

            “What in the world are ye going on about?” Merlin sighed through his nose. “It’s late, I’m exhausted, and I have work in the morning. Ye can either let me help ye get cleaned up and into bed, or ye can sleep on the fucking couch.”

            “Well excuse me for not fitting into y’r perfect life,” Eggsy spat. He swayed back and forth, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Merlin had no clue what he was spouting or even why he was saying it.

            Merlin debated on whether or not physically dragging Eggsy into the shower would be considered going too far, then decided that he didn’t have the energy.

            “Fine, stay out here,” Merlin said. If he got childish gratification from slamming the door, well it wasn’t like Eggsy would remember in the morning.

            Merlin changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed, but as tired as he was, he didn’t fall asleep. He laid awake, waiting for Eggsy to join him. Ten minutes later he heard the front door open and close, and he realized with a sinking feeling, that Eggsy left.

            He slipped his hand across the mattress to where Eggsy usually slept. How had they come to this point? It was Ronan all over again. Baleful looks and crass words thrown around too carelessly.

            Merlin drew his blankets up higher and willed himself to sleep.

* * * *

            Eggsy didn’t explain what happened that night. He apologized the next morning with flowers and a weak smile, but Merlin knew it wasn’t over. Something broken and lost had grown inside Eggsy’s eyes, and no matter how much Merlin coaxed, Eggsy wouldn’t let him in. The harder he pushed, the further Eggsy drifted away, until it felt like galaxies existed between them.

             Eggsy attended the release party with Merlin, but the evening was filled with stilted conversation and distance. Merlin hoped that once Eggsy returned to work everything would go back to normal. He knew wanting a magical fix wasn’t healthy, but he no longer knew what to do. This wasn’t one of his computer programs. He couldn’t fix it with a few adjustments to the coding.

            Harry and Percival watched with growing concern as Merlin and Eggsy avoided each other throughout the evening. Eggsy remained seated at the table all evening, replenishing his champagne glass each time it ran dry, while Merlin struggled through polite conversations and interviews.

            When they finally got home, Eggsy was blitzed on over-priced champagne and Merlin was mentally drained.

            Eggsy stumbled down the hall, struggling out of his jacket. He tripped on the floor rug with a curse and Merlin was at his side in a heartbeat, reaching to help him up. Eggsy shook off his hands and snapped, “Get off!”

            Merlin pulled back defensively, palms facing out, and said, “I was only trying to help.”

            “Yeah, well I don’t need it,” Eggsy grumbled, glassy eyes adverted. He ripped his jacket off with a grunt and dropped it on the ground. “I’m going to bed,” he announced.

            “What has gotten into ye?” Merlin asked, frustration and anger boiling to the surface like water bubbles rising in the kettle. “What do ye want from me? I’m trying to understand, but ye aren’t talking to me!”

            Merlin tried not to flinch beneath Eggsy’s incensed glare. “I want nothing from y’,” Eggsy spat. He turned sharply and vanished down the hall.

            Merlin remained in the dark foyer, unable to move. He stared at the spot Eggsy had been, trying to process what had just happened. He thought he knew what it meant to have his heart broken when Ronan left, but that pain paled into comparison to this. His heart wasn’t shredded or frayed, it had been burned, the ashes scattered and the earth salted.


	7. Happy Endings Do Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to talk through their problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-betaed.

            Merlin considered briefly going to his office. If he went to bed, he’d either face a wall of silence or a fight, and Merlin didn’t know if he had the energy to deal with that now. His anger was sharp and metallic on his tongue. He sucked in a breath and released it slowly, trying to relax the muscles which had tightened along his shoulders.

            He was trying. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Everything he did was wrong.

            Eggsy was mad if he helped. Eggsy got frustrated if he didn’t.

            Merlin understood that it was hard, that Eggsy had lost something, but _damn it_ , what did he want?

            All the fear and frustration snapped inside Merlin, and the chords that had been keeping him suspended released. Merlin squared his jaw. No. He refused to give up. He refused to let this fall apart like he had with Ronan. Merlin wasn’t ready to let go of Eggsy, even if he was being a giant arse. He picked the jacket off the floor, stormed into their room, and threw the jacket at Eggsy, who was sitting on the bed struggling to untie his shoes.

            Eggsy batted the coat away and looked up at him in bewilderment. “Wot the fuck bruv?”

            “Ye’re a fucking eedjit,” Merlin said, managing to reign in his tone enough to not yell.

            “Wot are y’ going on about?” Eggsy asked, hands dropping to his side, shoes forgotten.

            “Ye! ‘I don’t want anything from y’,” Merlin spat in his best imitation of Eggsy. “Ye don’t get to talk to me that way. I refuse to stand here and watch ye kill this relationship because ye’re too big of an arse to talk to me. Ye choose to sit there, massive chip on yer shoulder, and carry the burden all by yerself. We’re _partners_! That means I’m here to help ye, ye stupid eedjit!”

            Eggsy’s flushed face reddened more. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but Merlin didn’t let him get an edge in. The gates had opened, and the deluge of emotions Merlin had been holding back were finally unleashed.

            “Are ye done with me? Is that it?” Merlin asked, and while his heart slammed to a stop, he kept his voice steady. If there was one thing he’d always been good at, it was hiding how his heart broke.

            “Wot the fuck would make y’ say that?” Eggsy demanded.

            “Because ye don’t talk to me, ye won’t touch me, ye barely look at me. What am I supposed to think?”

            Eggsy snapped his mouth shut and looked away. “That ain’t wot I want,” Eggsy said. He let out a sigh threw his nose, whispering, “Fuck.”

            Merlin let out a ragged breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He dropped his shoulders and walked over to the bed, taking a seat next to Eggsy. “What is it lad? Talk to me. _Please_.”

            Eggsy turned his hands over on his lap, staring down at his calloused palms. The silence stripped them bare. It tore and dug, exposing flesh and insecurities, just as much Merlin’s as Eggsy’s own fears.

            “I spoke with Chief Kinnock,” Eggsy whispered, “Even if I return, all I’ll be able to do is office work. With the bar in my leg, and the level of muscle I had lost during recovery, I just… it’s over. My fucking career is over.”

            “Oh lad,” Merlin whispered, winded by the confession. “Why didn’t ye tell me?”

            “Wot did y’ want me to say? That I’m jobless?” Eggsy ask, disgust and disdain dripping from each word. “That I’m a fucking invalid?”

            “Ye aren’t an invalid,” Merlin said, sliding his hand over Eggsy’s and squeezing.

            Eggsy hung his head, shoulders hunkered up around his ears. “Wot good am I to y’? I ain’t got nufin…”

            “Ye eedjit,” Merlin sighed. “Do ye think I care? All I care about is ye, and the fact that ye’re safe, alive, and healthy. The rest of the stuff? It doesn’t matter.”

            “It was all I ever wanted Merlin. I dreamed about becoming a firefighter, and now? Now I don’t know wot to do.”

            “We’ll figure it out, together,” Merlin said. “That’s what I’m here for. It isn’t the end, pet, it’s just a new beginning. And if ye stop shutting me out, I can help ye figure out the next chapter.”

            “Merlin… Christ, I’m sorry,” Eggsy shifted, twisting around so he faced Merlin. “I’ve been a fucking prick.”

            “Aye, ye have,” Merlin hummed. He set his forehead against Eggsy’s, their noses bumping together. “But I could have said something, instead of locking myself away. We were both eedjits.”

            Eggsy took Merlin’s face in both of his hands. “Y’ know I love y’, right? I love y’ so fucking much.”

            Merlin didn’t know who kissed who first. Their lips were suddenly together, and it was like they were trying to make up for all the lost time, all the missed touches and embraces. Merlin devoured Eggsy’s mouth with tongue and teeth. Their lungs no longer seemed to need air, because both refused to part, to let any space slip between them.

            His head spun and his vision prickled, but he didn’t breakaway. It wasn’t until Eggsy finally pulled back to take his shirt off, that Merlin drew in a few gulps of air.

            Neither spoke as they stripped, only separating in order to remove articles of clothing. Merlin kissed a path up Eggsy’s throat, and Eggsy pressed Merlin into the mattress, using his weight to hold him down. He sucked a trail of bruises across Merlin’s collar, stopping briefly to suckle at his nipples, before continuing southward along the hard planes of his abdomen.

            “God I missed y’,” Eggsy murmured between bites. “Missed touching y’, tasting y’, making love to y’.”

            Merlin groaned, fingers tangled in Eggsy’s hair. “I’ve been right here.”

            “I know,” Eggsy said, nuzzling his hipbone. “I’m so sorry.”

            Merlin shook his head. “Its ov—ahh!” He threw his head back, moaning loudly as Eggsy took his semi-flaccid prick into his mouth and sucked him into complete hardness.

            It wasn’t the best blow job he’d ever had—certainly not from Eggsy—but Merlin never felt more cherished. Eggsy nestled between his legs, hands hooked around his thighs, and worshipped his cock with the grace and piety of a devout priest paying penance.

            Merlin tried to keep his hips still as Eggsy took him deep into his throat, but it was hard to control the kneejerk reaction to fuck up into the delicious wet heat of his mouth when Eggsy worked his tongue along his frenulum in small kitten strokes. Merlin tugged at Eggsy’s hair as soon as he felt the boiling hot pressure build at the base of his spine.

            “Fuck, fuck, lad,” Merlin groaned. His thighs trembled from the exertion of keeping them held open.

            Eggsy lifted off, but it was only to retrieve some lubricant from the bedside table. “I don’t know how I stayed away,” he said as he flicked the lid of lubricant open and poured a decent amount on his fingers. He warmed up the gel, before leaning over Merlin. He pressed small kisses along the corner of Merlin’s mouth, continuing to ramble, “Missed being in y’. Been thinking about it since my damn leg broke. Going to make up for all the lost time—make y’ scream my name.”

            Merlin planted his feet flat against the mattress and tilted his hips up. “I’ve never screamed once,” Merlin huffed.

            Eggsy circled a finger around his puckered entrance. “There’s a first time for everything love.” Eggsy chuckled.

            Merlin should have known better than to challenge Eggsy. Telling Eggsy something was impossible was like telling Icarus not to fly. Eggsy took Merlin’s cock back into his mouth, while simultaneously sinking his first thick finger down to the third knuckle inside Merlin.

            “Fuck,” Merlin groaned. He grabbed onto the headboard with one hand and threaded his other fingers into Eggsy’s hair.

            Eggsy hummed, and Merlin felt the vibrations all the way down to his bollocks. He curled his toes, digging his heels into the mattress, and gave an experimental roll of his hips. Eggsy worked a second finger in. Merlin didn’t so much as feel the blunted tips of his digits rub along his inner walls, but rather a series of detonations that were triggered with Eggsy’s merciless strokes. He crooked his fingers, found Merlin’s prostate, and massaged the bundle of nerves until Merlin was a trembling, melting mess.

            Merlin’s brain shorted out after the first thirty seconds. All he could process was the pressure building inside him and the quaking pleasure that oscillated from his core. Eggsy took him to the root as he continued to massage Merlin’s prostate, and with each press and roll of his finger, Merlin felt a little bit more of himself crack.

            He was torn between fucking up into Eggsy’s mouth and down on his hand. Merlin’s own fingers cramped as he clutched the wooden headboard. He was vaguely aware of a moan that sounded suspiciously like a scream—but he wasn’t sure if it was coming from him or all in his head.

            He came with a choked cry, barely able to get enough air in his lungs to even make a sound. Eggsy didn’t let up until he’d milked every last ounce from Merlin, and even then he teased the overstimulated nerves, until Merlin sobbed, “Fuck, fuck—Eggsy, lad—C-Christ, I can’t.”

            Eggsy lifted off him, chin shiny with spit, and shifted Merlin’s limpid legs around his waist. He lined himself up with Merlin, and as he slid in, he met Merlin for a kiss. It was bitter and salty, and Merlin groaned, hungry for more.

            Merlin wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s neck, unable to do much more than hold on as Eggsy fucked him. Eggsy nuzzled his ear, panting out a litany of curses as he rocked into Merlin. It was a slow dance, one that left Merlin dizzy and gasping in Eggsy’s arms. Eggsy came with a whispered fuck, digging his fingers into Merlin’s thighs as he molded their bodies together.

            Merlin collapsed onto the bed with a pant, not sure if it was his heart or Eggsy’s heart that was thundering in his ears. Eggsy nuzzled his cheek, dotting small kisses along his jaw, and whispered, “I love y’.”

            “I love ye too,” Merlin murmured, the words slightly slurred as he floated on the post-orgasmic cloud.

* * * *

            Eggsy wore the speedo Merlin bought him. It was a deep forest green—similar in shade to his eyes—with a white lightning bolt across the front. His arse cheeks hung out the back slightly, and Merlin rather enjoyed how the material cupped his package. If Eggsy was embarrassed by the swimwear, he didn’t show it. In fact, Merlin almost regretted buying it, because Eggsy had been strutting around the beach like a peacock for the entire trip. He even went so far as to make sure Merlin oiled his skin to show off all of his granite carved muscles.

            They had to push back their first year anniversary trip, instead celebrating six months after the milestone. After Eggsy finished physio, he spent a month sorting out the next steps in his life. Merlin offered to find him work at Kingsman, but Eggsy blanched at the idea of wearing a necktie. In the end he fell back on his second passion—cooking. Merlin may had pulled some strings to get Eggsy into London’s premier cooking school.

            They had two days left on their trip and were currently lounging on the white sandy beaches of Fiji at the Viwa Resort. Merlin turned to the next page in his book— _Jaws_ , to Eggsy’s amusement—trying to finish the chapter before the diminishing sunlight went out. It was easy to lose time with the sound of the surf and song of native birds.

            “Marry me,” Eggsy said.

            Merlin looked at him, startled. “What?”

            Eggsy looked up from his copy of _Casino Royale_ and met Merlin’s gaze. “Marry me,” he repeated with that same carefree grin that Merlin first fell in love with. The last bursts of sunlight saturated Eggsy’s face in rosy tones, turning his green eyes almost golden.

            Merlin returned to his book, and with a sniff, said, “Yeah, all right. But I want a proper ring.”

            “Of course,” Eggsy chuckled.

            Merlin didn’t look up when he felt Eggsy’s hand wrap around his. They continued to read as the last the sun set over the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who read! I had a lot of fun with this story! I hope everyone enjoyed it!! :D


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